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the whole point of a blog is to vent, or thats what seems accurate. ALL DAY i have been sitting in my desk chair, writing an 8 page short story that fell short. I am a damn good writer, but i just can’t figure it out. I cant help but believe that THAT is a testament to my life recently, the entire package is there, but i keep falling short. why is it so difficult to find an answer, a...
haiku: relevant to what i am doing.
alone in my room thinking becomes a challenge with one thing in mind every day is hard i want to go with my gut too scared of failure what if it works out i would feel complete for once too scared to fuck up.
fucking exhausted with the everyday bullshit phone calls. my stomache churns, the acid rockets into my throat, burning my teeth. you burn my teeth, you burn my gut. you hurt my insides, i dont deserve this feeling. You deserve to know what i go through.