On this day, I reflected of why The Morrighan has chosen me and this work, at this time. I believe nothing is of coincidence, be it fate, or will, therein lies purpose. I used to be a soldier and thrice I went unto the field of battle and thrice I came home. Each time changed me in ways I did not initially see. Then each time the well was deeper and the currents stirred stronger. Now, like a storm encroaching, I isolate and batten down my windows and doors. I barter with myself so I do not have to go out, even a trip to the store and the onslaught of navigate through hordes of people. Then working as a phlebotomist for a plasma center, the continuous flow of people never stops. I had never felt anxiety like this before, thus I try meditate, and call the calming waters of Leviathan, only to be pierced time and time again by the zombie horde wielding spears. Anyway, these are my pains, and the bramble thorns I navigate daily, getting pricked and denied the sweet fruits of wisdom. Yet I do it to myself, with negative self-talk and reinforced when defeat does come. It is me wielding the double edged blade self-striking as a martyr. So pitiful, yet The Morrighan clears the bramble to offer her furits of wisdom to me in making me humble and small. "Never underestimate the power of the small. Go swift in shadow, before the fae knows you are even here. Taste the fruits and learn, then clear your path. Be strong, for you have survived many a trial. Be true to yourself most of all. "