12.31,20

The past week or so (past 52 weeks, really) has been a bit of a roller coaster, which is only fitting perhaps, considering that it's the final week of this wretched year. I like to think the universe is purging all of its chaos out in 2020 in order to turn over a new leaf in 2021. My hopes for the new year are high and I feel that things can and will go up from here.

When I look inward at myself, I can see cracks where old parts of me are breaking away, exposing raw new areas that have been developing under the surface for a long time. I feel a deep shift happening in my core. Like the Earth in its early stages, the craters and scars of my planetary landscape are slowly changing—some will smooth over, others will become wine-dark seas and cloudy mountain ranges. This is a metamorphic stage. New life will soon flourish.