ramblings re: a new year.

2025 is here and i am too.

last year, i made a promise to myself to WRITE. not simply dream about being a writer, but actually write. a minimum of 250 words of fiction per week, just for me and just for fun. to experiment with writing romance, learn who i am as an “author”, and keep my word with consistent action over 12 months – ultimately penning ~60K words.

for 2025, i’ve made a promise to share my writing with the world: fiction, nonfiction, poetry, stream of consciousness – to step way outside of my comfort zone and once again keep my word with consistent action. but more than that, to invite feedback, conversation, and development.

how can i truly know if i’m good (or bad) at something if i never put myself out there?

how can i grow without authenticity and vulnerability and discipline?

how can i make people feel without offering up my words?

i’ll be honest and say i’m scared. scared my words will be crap. scared this very post is crap. but i’m doing it anyway. i’m doing it scared. because if the only way to get to better, stronger, doper, sexier, realer words is through, this is my through. this is my journey there.

happy new year!