cold air
hot steam
Have you written anything new?
They ask
My words are still here,
I hope yours are too.
The vibe is deep lavender skies and bugs fluttering under the lamplight
It is fluorescents lighting up the pavement so it looks purple too
Cars shining in the night like an old movie or a normal evening, here on Earth
Love is responding, not reacting
Love is listening without judgment
Love is seeing beyond illusions
Love is seeing with the heart
Love is being here now
300 words a day
I admit the well feels a little dry
I’ve fallen out of the habit
And my last two entries feel like lies —
They’re totally unfinished
Hot and steaming like just-poured French press
Lines tight like the vertical ribs in my tank top
There is a tiny rip in my pants
I am visions of gold and plaid
Below are three lengthy affirmations for releasing limiting beliefs about comparison and competition. When we put too much energy into comparing ourselves to others, we sabotage the creative process.
Today I got up and I drank some water
and I did some morning pages like a good writer
and I waited a while before I put my pants on
and I wore mismatched socks
One day I will compose an anthology of scraps written while drinking coffee, like this one. I have many, and each one is very unique and special. A moment captured in time! What I like about the ritual of morning coffee…
300 words per day and I’m already beginning to stray, wondering if I reached my…
I am lost
Without a pen
Nothing but fingers
And an empty hand
Left my notebook
I ripped up the dammit doll
That is, after all, what it was for
I tore it in half and threw it away
No use wasting this rainy day
Beating myself up
Tired eyes heavy with an infinite spark trapped behind the ice, only to be melted as the day goes on
Coffee grows cooler and fake spliffs an ineffective deep breath
I am delivered from the fog and pray to never go back
Thought I’d drop in with a few words
Because it’s been a while
And I like to pretend my words
Occasionally make people smile
Or maybe they make you cry
Oh, hello
I didn’t see you there
But now I recognize you
With your face freckled
And curly brown hair
Though you may be overlooked
I lost a dear friend today
He had four legs, four hooves
A long tail, and a mane
The kind of fellow you might ask
Hey, why the long face?
My barista said, one late afternoon
Hey J, how are you?
I’m exhausted, I reply, I’ve been up since 2
2 in the morning?
No, dude, the afternoon
Insomnia insomnia
The word seduced
Me in my youth
Hand-stitched
Problems projected
Onto myself
In the past, I was hurt very bad
Faces, voices, sounds, smells
A hot cup of coffee wakes up the world
One more face gets lost in the crowd
Yesterday’s front page fades into the background
I am on the edge of glory
I am on the edge of something
The only thing between it and I
Would be my fears, projected
