I did not wake up on a rainy day to the realisation of being on a path of personal resistance. Hell, even now I am unsure what it means. But I tell you what I know: I know that Peter Pan annoys me, I know that contrasting feelings are no longer held by the dam, and that I want to move beyond.
After much pondering, I concluded it was time to make fun of it all: of myself, of the dam, of Peter Pan. And that perhaps I could learn to write a bit better through the effort of writing.
Because, let’s say it, 40 is unlikely to be the new 30, but it may be wittier if we just let ourselves be free of fear.