coffeeshop thinks
Ace Outpost, whole latte with ginger + brown sugar
the pea green low-curved chair I opposedly gravitated towards in the back left of the room was made for my weight, butt shape, and typing wingspan; me. and the 5-foot moon shaped lamp next to me was also lit to mirror and feed My Light
Religion by Lana is resonating so deeply I feel it in my cells. what do the lyrics say? not sure. I’m a tune girl
every road in fact is lonely and holy.
I’ve had a moderately grounding lightbulb-moment week (it flickered for days but burned brightest before it went dark - i’ll be warmed by its glow again soon i’m sure). I’ve been dishing out my creativity like it’s worth everyone else’s time and money. I’ve poured into everyone else’s cups and there’s only a half ounce left for me. And I’m parched.
nothing feels more stunning than white satin. or seems more than two men so obviously in love
My creative lifeblood has merged into a cyclical thing, gathering life and oxygen and circulating it back instead of out an IV bag plugged into others and taped for surefire firing. It’s mine alas!
There is a lot of shame in coming-of-age girlhood. It makes me sad but lessens when we talk about it to each other
Abigail Rothwell Brown has a nice ring to it. Lauren never resonated with me. Sorry, my second name love
Winter isn’t for berries. Don’t be let down when you taste a watery absence of sweetness instead of a gut-punch of summertime nostalgia. Nothing is great all of the time and that is why it’s great.
it’s hard to not check my email… too hard that it’s pathetic
