September 2011
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August 2011
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I squash flies under my heel and feel no guilt about it. Their silence is comforting.
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September:
write at least three poems to submit to Magpie Magazine
Do video for Magpie Magazine
Finish drawing for mom
write small story for Christmas presents
Find a good printer to offer prints in my etsy store
Draw new things, whatever they might be
Finish the zine with Jamie
Stop feeling sorry for myself
Start new projects
read many books
start writing on my book blog again
be more.
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Morning sunshine spilling on the carpet, warming my toes. Cluster flies in the windows, the continuous buzzing a distraction, overwhelming the quiet awakening of the world outside, the crickets and frogs, the leaves rustling. They buzz and fly and hit themselves on the walls, not knowing where to go, how to get out. Straining against the glass panes as if wanting to get to a world that is...
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Dear M.J.,
underparasols:
Moonbeams like the fingers of ghosts unraveling my French braid. This is an intimacy I do not recognize, one that must have gotten past Customs by hiding beneath the lapel of an expert traveler. If I let myself I could bask in the novelty of being touched without having to reciprocate. But I cannot, and must not, because it is a lie. Even if the price is small I would still...
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For pain words are lacking. There should be cries, cracks, fissures, whiteness...
– Virginia Woolf (via forestmilk)
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Have you ever met somebody, online or not, that you just wanted to know everything about them? You want to sit with them and listen to their thoughts and dreams and opinions. And you wish they would listen to you, too. You are so convinced you could be friends, but still you do not know how to talk to them properly. And you are so scared and convinced that they do not find you nearly as...
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I wish there was an Hogwarts House for artists and creative people. A House for readers and writers and painters and poets. A House for dreamers. They would make their own publications, and trade zines between classes.
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