I feel sad and alone. Not certain why life is worth living. I also had an a-ha moment today. Wondering why when I told my mom I wanted to be a writer she asked my why I wanted to be poor and live in Grenich Village with a bunch of hippies/nobodies. Why couldn't she have actually encouraged me or listed writers that were successful? Why didn't she say it may be hard work, but if you commit to it you can do it? I live my life in shadows occassionally finding a sun spot. But my home is the shadows.