"Were most of your stars out? Were you busy writing your heart out?"
I used to want to get that tattoed on my wrist until I forgot the idea...
I completely forgot the saying all together and it popped in my mind like a favorite smell or an old photograph-
this used to hold weight.
and yet here i am eight years later and when i think of that saying something inside me feels just a little lighter.
family has a way of nourishing and oppressing all at once.
go be a writer, but know that you wouldn't be one without us
go be an artist, but what the hell are you doing with your life
we support you, are you really a fucking receptionist?
there is majesty in defeating one's own ego
but the real fight comes when other's try to unearth your own
"i paid $16 for a cup of coffee," she laughs at her own amusement.
"I'm just glad someone else is paying the tab," and this is supposed to excuse the fact that she ordered a $16 cup of coffee that was probably cold by the time it reached her room
the country is bleeding
people can no longer afford to be middle class Americans
and she is buying $16 cups of coffee and i am judging her behind my bodega cup of joe.
i miss writing all the time
sometimes i forget
sometimes its easier to just work and find things to work hard on rather than myself
i think about that tattoo and i wonder of a permanent reminder would help me to stay focused
a subtle yet gentle reminder of me
or would i carve it out in twenty four hours...
if i keep biting my nails, i just mught have a chance.