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October 29, 2011

Oh man I feel good. I’m feeling the anxiety and the frustration that comes with writing what I LOVE to write.

I always dream about writing stories, but for me satisfaction comes from the verse I do.

Losing your voice is never a good thing. Two fucking years my God!

Two years of stuttering starts and fizzling out. Two pieces in a week may be a good sign, but not only that, but the passion is back.

No blame, but I think people moving on, and feeling shattered about certain things blocked me in some ways (and no I don’t mean people in fucking Melbourne those people can eat shit though). Brissy fell through then hope did too. Hey it happens. Life is life

Dreams are well and good, but time can kick their ass.

Another thing is I’m good. Losing weight and no longer replacing my daily water intake with red wine.

I used to worry about retreading familiar ground, or appearing darker than I actually am, but FUCK that. The simple fact that I want to write again is enough. other people can judge my shit. I’m just happy to churn it out.



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