Not much time to write. Much action to fill time with. Momentuous stillness.

A year ago I started questioning.

Now I seem on the verge of coming out.

It’s surprising how conflicting and scary that feels. For several reasons – staring into the face of frightening outcome-risks that I can’t assess how unrealistic they are, that is one. Probably the lesser. The other, how while there isn’t anything that makes me doubt at this point, there is still the apparent absurdity, how different this future is from all that which I grew up around.

I suppose at this point I am processing the fears, spread thin as grease in the machinery of the events of my life, the glorious mechanisms of my agency. Stay tuned.