The picture below is called "Ancient of Days" and it's by William Blake

Too many of us, myself included, lack passion. In ourselves, our work, our relationships, to me it seems impossible to be passionate about all three at once, probably because the nature of that strong emotional bent is that its concentrated on a single source. This makes me sad.

I feel like Virginia Woolf, completely bogged down by my own emotions, my insecurities, my feelings of self worth. We share the same birthday after all. Feel feel feel.

Maybe I should put rocks in my pockets and walk into a river. Maybe I should just go read To the Lighthouse.