sincerely written

georgian bay is lined with a butter-coloured sky and dark fingered clouds that are definately pretending to be islands off on the horizon. the wind bites with deep fangs at my cheeks and nose, making liquid stream from my eyes and blur the world into large shapes.

i'm torn between here and there, terrified that the decision will rob me of something important, no matter what i choose.

diving deep is proving to be harder than anticipated.