and sleep pound my brain, plate is full but somehow the sentences are empty. so I'm here because I'm supposed to be. adjusting to my new roommate... mmm. finding ways around the little things, and ways to love them still. it's good, it's really, really good, in a real way, not a wishy washy early on in the game kind of way. I can't wait to make coffee for the morning shift on friday. funny, these little things, like an oasis...
I'm not the best at anything, really, and somehow I have to get past that and just keep doing what I dig, for no other reason than the fact that I want to or need to. I wax and wane. I do things alot or not at all.
I've never stopped writing, even if it's the first ten pages of two dozen notebooks in a box in my closet, or furiously scrawled-on legal pads with full pages on both sides of the whole thing. and things that were funny then in sharpie on the back.
life is so wonderful, I've never had it so good - it's shifting more towards creating who I am, instead of trying to figure out what I'm supposed to be, even though those sound the same, but they're not.
love and heavy eyelids time,
v.
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