Contents Under Pressure
It's Halloween week. I leave the house in the dark. I return home in the dark. The sky is gloomy and the rain won't stop. Why now?
my perception is selective.
I can't stop fidgeting.
Tonight, for the first time in my life, I called myself an artist.
I. am. in. such. a. dark. place.
// heavy heart and a head full of pesticide.
And here I am.
Able to call myself a fucking artist.
I just needed to suffer for it.
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images + words. a story untold still has its worth, but here we are. . . because stories save.