On Creation / Creative process

Whenever I try to force myself to write, it never goes over well. I’ll feign an organized, productive lifestyle by planning out little pockets of “creation time” throughout the week to tide the anxious, worried-about-the-future side of me over until the next bout of “I have to get my life together” strikes. But the creative…

intermittent

post-relational musings; quickly jotted down in a scrap of paper upon feeling the sudden need to document my desire to be a particular sort of woman. now a thing of the past. she walked quickly when she was with him. it was never to keep up—no, he was an ambler, not a strider. but under…

真っ赤

I was seven the first time I fell in love. The moment will never be hard to pinpoint, even if you’ve shaken me awake to a bleary mauve sky. It rests just behind my eyes—a place where, when I choose to, I can see it with astounding clarity. My mother’s friend ran the festival. She…