She always says that writing is the only thing she’s sure of in a world of ten thousand other things we can break down into ten thousand more. The truth is, the only thing she’s sure of isn’t even sure most days, when ten thousand pieces of paper remain either unwritten on or unheld.
Everything is uncertain. Stability is an abstract idea in this ten-thousand-things-world where human beings devour idea after idea, sending long-held beliefs down drains of ‘old-fashioned’ and ‘doubt’.
Nothing else remains. What you so tightly embrace today might just be taken from you tomorrow. Sometimes, you still have bargaining power. Other times, it will be taken from you in the night.
This blog is made up of all these ten thousand unsure things, held tightly together by a Hand that makes sense of them all.