I have wondered where I’ve been all this time. I get so shy, I do all my work on my phone as if my writing is a secret and even when I share my website or taglines and shit like that, I wonder where I’ve been I don’t want them to read it and they ask for recommendations and so on. What could you do?
I’m venturing six months of grieving and I can’t stop writing poetry. When I look to how awful I am and I just miss my best friends. My life changed with that light of life out in the sky. Like all his stars he made with his eyes open and they all fell when he died. Is it awful to say that?
I’ve tried job applications with two failed interviews and dating apps and none of it works.
Make it a journal entry, make it one you don’t post. Diary still speaks to an audience.
Distractions and I smoke because he liked it and I drink because he always was and I take my day after of hangover as punishment to the sober stat I had set for myself. I say I only started drinking recently again and no one asks why. Distractions. Lost in it, I wouldn’t say a bender but I just get so high and write my poetry.
Every writer destined to a weird Naked Lunch or Kerouac Beat Poetry days.
I just wanna Howl.
There is something too briny in my knees. It’s awful to have to shower or make the bed. I haven’t been myself but been better.
6:46am
petrichor - archive 