A few days before my job begins, I’ve been wondering whether being back here is good.

I still struggle with my purpose. I question my path. I wonder if this is what God has installed for me.

I grieved over certain memories; ones that are not worth hanging on to. Every day I tell myself it’s going to be different, but the words spilled are of hatred and not of consideration.

I hate to say “America is better”. Because it shouldn’t be.

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