When the rain washes you clean, you'll know

March, roughly

I'm happy, I'm scared, I'm full to bursting with emotions, concerns, worries, and thoughts of every kind. I crave organization, reassurance, creativity, a belief that my parents are proud of me. I've none of those so far.

I can't write outright about any of it. Yet. Just sit here and let Fleetwood Mac massage my aching mind.

Shhhh....