When you start something, you don’t know how it will end
Sometimes you don’t even know when it begins
Sometimes you only notice partway in
Like entering a labyrinth
A haze, fogging up his mind. His emotions unknown even to himself. Is he bored? Is he happy? Is he angry? Is he sad? Dimly, he is aware of the discomfort in his chest, like his heart is being squeezed and pulled by a couple of toddlers. It’s not painful, or alarming, but it…
Author’s Note: I’m going to talk a little bit about jazz. I speak from the perspective of an amateur pianist with…
Assumptions. They’re powerful. You overhear your friends talking shit about you, and you assume your friendships have been a lie. Your parents yell at you for a mistake, and you assume they don’t love you anymore. You see your significant other being a little too friendly with someone else, and you assume…
The New York rain kissed her face.
Writing is a lot like cooking noodles
I know
That’s a weird sentence
But hear me out
How many times have you wanted to write, but didn’t know what to do?
I never know what to write. Sometimes it comes to me immediately, but other times I have to sit and stare at the white canvas for hours, waiting for that colorful being to make its way into words and leave my fingers.
I’m going to cry.
I’m going to crash a car at exactly 274 mph
I’m going to make a list of things I’m going to do
I’m going to fly away to the internet