“Writing isn’t about making money, getting famous, or making friends. It’s about doing what you love the best you know how. It’s about making a heart pound in fear, shrink from rage, weep with understanding, or soar with excitement. It’s about making worlds and living in them deeply enough someone else can join you there.…
sun glistened on the brown and green glass. light became fuzzy black spots in the corners of my eyes as i glanced up at the sun dancing on the debris. trash. transformed into unearthly caves of from far away galaxies. pieces of broken blue and white china.
“live, travel, adventure, bless, and don’t be sorry.” .jack kerouac
i watched the sun fall over the pacific ocean four days in a row. on the first evening i believed my friend journeyed to the beach to show me and my mister our first ever san diego sunset.
i am not someone who hates on winter, but new jersey is the currently the absolute worst. snow storm after snow storm has been consistently followed by icy nonsense. morning commutes are disgusting. schedules have been rearranged too many times to count. everyone has the sniffles.
“Somehow you’ll escape all that waiting and staying. You’ll find the bright places where Boom Bands are playing.” .oh the places you’ll go. happy birthday dr. seuss.
an open letter to the golden haired beauty i met at the motion city sound track show last saturday night at starland ballroom… and to rockstar girls the world over…
thirty days into twenty fifteen, and i am finally ready to share a new years’ piece. luckily, my resolutions this year do not include punctuality. twenty fourteen was a year of incredible highs and god awful lows. sadness and unparalleled anxiety were swiftly chased with blissful moments of feeling as though the whole world was conspiring to shower me with everything i ever wished for.
“never complain. never explain.” .kate moss