Discipline. Spontaneous. Discipline. Talker. Listener. Drunk. Sober. Laughter. Chaos. Free. Historian. Discipline. Sinner. Follower. Wanderer. Discipline. The Rebel. Lover. Saint. A forgiving exile. The net that catches the butterfly of life. Discipline. The Writer. Always. Always, Human. “Writing, like life itself, is a voyage of discovery...The writer lives between the upper and lower worlds: he takes the path in order… Continue reading Quick Press #3: Why, What, Why, What, Is, To Be, A, Writer?
Toshiba Cobalt Blue and I are slowly choosing becoming exiles, for now.
Always. We're in this thing together. These words are what binds us, ghosts, forever, links us alive with the goodness of the human chain of events; zeros, light, stars, crunch, tears, yes, we're here. love. peace. Be nice. Be cool. Be you. Calm the sway of life. Learn. Grow. Drop. Fail. Just keep going. The world… Continue reading I am where the wild things are.
The passengers just want to go home, and for most of these people they have no clue where home is anymore. They’re just going somewhere, who knows, probably to a new city, because they still love life and want to smile once more without forcing feelings that aren’t there just yet. These people believe in… Continue reading You want to know where people really think? (re-edit)
"…that old shithole New York where I was born… A place where I knew nothing but starvation, humiliation, despair, frustration, every god damn thing — nothing but misery. Every bloody street I looked down I see nothing but misery, nothing but monsters …today I think it’s the ugliest and shittiest city in the world…When I… Continue reading Writing Thoughts by Dead Writers, Henry Miller, Every Day We Slaughter Our Finest Impulses