I've found peace, and my writing is fucked

I'm finding increasing amounts of inner peace and self acceptance, and I'll need to re-invent myself here because of it.

I've always felt a lot of emotional 'complexity' and struggle, and I've used that drama to pull you in, to lend color to greyscale, to pick you up and spin you right into another world, into your world, more clearly. (yes, in this version of reality you're a pretty little princess who gets twirled haha... deal with it)

So when I look inside and the only thing I see is serenity... what the fuck do I do with that?! I'm charting new territory here!

I'm always looking inward... when 'inward' is solved, perhaps it's time to direct my gaze outward? Towards possibilities, towards ideas, towards the future, towards helping steer humanity forward in whatever way I'm most suited for.

Just because I'm calm... there's still a fire that burns deep in my soul, always. Maybe this is not the death of my writing, but more of a rebirth, of a new style, of a new chapter.