If I were you, what would it take me to read me?
The answer is simple. I’d have to believe that I was worth reading. And it this moment, with the knowledge that I have, I wouldn't.
I wouldn’t believe that I was worth reading if I didn't help my author change his life, as intended and as promised.
He's disappointed. I’ve written a lot and posted a little. And I'm struggling to keep my author focused.
The thing is: I need him to get written. I can't do it myself. He keeps getting distracted.
But he’s writing me now. Or writing with me now. And that’s a hopeful sign.
The truth is that I’d only read me if I was finished, and I’m far from finished.
But I have hope and I have faith and maybe that will see me through.
We'll see.
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