Looking for Answers

I've been looking for answers. To a question I don't even know the words to. Or have too many words for. Too many questions. What kind of exercise can I commit to? How can I get a job I like? How do I make friends? How do I live on my own? I know the answer to these. I just haven't let myself sit in the discomforting quiet long enough for the answers to become clear. My version or flavour of discomforting quiet is writing with that spark of spite, rage, heat, passion. The small flickering flame that burns hot and quick through me into my fingers as they click-click on the keyboard. I love to swim, I love to run, I love to walk. Swimming is the only one I can consistently devote my time to. However, I get tripped up on the logistics. Where would I go? How would I get there? To have the freedom to get a job I like, I'd need to get my high school diploma. I have known this for a while. This one is temporarily on hold due to trauma work. So it can sit on the back burner, instead of taking…