It’s the start of a new month already- the sixth month of the year. 5 are in the books.

There is always the question: “Am I growing?”

I don’t know.

I’ve been good to get a blog post up daily for 5 months straight. I am not sure if you count that as progress. It is a progress in discipline.

I try to write short stories and poems a little more. Maybe the progress is in the trying, the slow whittling of effort against neurons, against linguistic arrangements. And I’ve seen a few things leap from my mind that have made me happy, made me pleased.

In broader life, I am not sure I am growing at all. It’s been a very inside 5 months. Anxieties and concerns and reticence circling within like a sloshing stew.

And time moves forward.

And time moves forward.

And I will change, whether I like how it goes, if I choose to participate in the morphing or not.

In writing, though, I’ve written a lot. Much of it is bland and uninspiring. But I’ve written more decent stuff as well. And that is good.

We’ll see what June brings.