I'm trying to keep up with my doctor's instructions, but sometimes I worry that I have ruined something. I tread lightly so as not to waken the beast. At the same time, a renewed creativity has opened doors for me that I thought were lost. The artistic life was layered with dust. I can breathe now as the tender shoots poke out of winter's death. Life may slowly return. I don't know. I need the energy to expand my small circle.
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What Stage Am I In?
