Blogging number of tears because I’m emotional over superheroes.

1st scene: Tony is close to death and Captain Marvel shows up to save him.

Tony falls to the ground telling Steve he failed.

Opening title.

Scott Lang (Paul Rudd) meets his now teenage daughter.

We meet Morgan Stark.

Valkyrie!

Thor talks with his mom.

Chris Pratt.

Howard Stark tells Tony his wife is expecting.

Cap sees Peggy.

Natasha dies. Actual rolling tears on this one. P.S. I hated Hawkeye way before this movie, but man, I really hate him.

“Cap, it’s Sam. Can you hear me?”

Everyone is back. Actual tears.

Wakanda chant.

Peter and Tony.

Captain Marvel’s re-entry.

“I am Iron Man” snap.

Tony’s death scene. Cap tears up. I can’t take it.

“I love you 3000.” Entire funeral scene.

Happy Hogan and little Morgan talking about cheeseburgers.

And that’s it. I am a complete sap.

About right. It’s scary how right this is.

In keeping with the theme of the week:

I’m having a rough time. I don’t know why. I want for nothing. I have few worries. It’s the brand of mental illness I combat everyday.

Love you guys.

I took a selfie after the video yesterday and I think they look more natural here. The lugging isn’t great in my living room, so the hair doesn’t look very red. But the eyes are really blue. Today I wore them with a ponytail. It’s a bangin’ week.

I did this video on the Facebook Live earlier and thought I’d post it for those of you who aren’t in The Facebook.

I’ve been told/asked all of the below.

2.222 y’all. Weird.

Notes From Your Therapist gets it right A LOT. There are things I don’t post that I’d like to post that she writes because a few people would take it personally. That’s the problem with being a writer. Everyone thinks you’re writing about them. I’ve posted for a couple of years “for those of you who think I’m writing about you, I am.” And that’s true and it’s not. Big time bloggers I read have that issue. One very prominent blogger/author has talked endlessly about family and friends ask her not to write things. I’ve had that too. And I’ve bent out of respect. But I didn’t like it. At all. And I wonder why I bent. That’s hard. And I wonder what kind of person that makes me. And what kind of writer that makes me. And I wonder what people want. Then I think about what I want. And what I do know is that I will be true to myself.

I follow and love postsecret.com. I think I’ve followed it from the beginning. I may have sent in a couple. This past week, the founder, Frank Warren, posted this email on Facebook from when a woman was thinking of ending her life. “We are going to die, why rush into it? There might still be some good shit.”

j

When I’m writing. When I’m not writing I’m writing. I file away lines and sentences and emotions. On paper, in my iPhone notes. I write drafts. Paragraphs, pages, stories. I write drafts of blog posts. I rewrite. I revise. I write and publish blog posts. It’s all very exhausting for the mind. But I can’t stop. I’m not famous. No one knows who I am. No one is waiting for my next novel. But it’s not that. It’s because I have to.