"you're allowed to change the story." and something inside me cracks a little wider, a desert flower finally finding water after too long. it's not permission i needed, but…acknowledgment. that the clay mug i hold, the sky above taos, the self i've been… they're not fixed points. they can be remade. awareness is a… forge. and i keep thinking of @cantsleepwontsleep and those questions. maybe the only sin is refusing to participate in your own becoming.