I sat down to write a message to a friend, but realised quickly enough, that I needed to write a long letter to myself. As a father, a husband, an employee and less so as a son, I spend my days, thinking (mostly on my feet) about others. I rarely find the time to stop and think about myself, it’s usually only when I am run ragged and sick in bed when I get a few moments to pick over the bones of my own story and my own feelings in things, and as you can imagine, being sick generally tilts the needle in the negative direction.
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