Every day, I tell myself the same thing:

This, too, is the way. This, too, shall pass.

It’s a mantra that keeps me from screaming, or worse.

It’s ringing a little hollow these days. Perhaps it’s just another to avoid taking action on the things that haunt me.

Perhaps.

Target: 1000 words
Written: 2287 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Uncertainty: Turning Fear And Doubt Into Fuel For Brilliance, Jonathan Fields
Comics: The Boys 31-34
Music: Nice, Rollins Band (I saw this listed as their worst album, and all I could think was, "if this is their worst, how fucking bad is everyone else?"  Rollins is the shit.)