Books and words and other things

Category: storytelling: the art

I love a good story. I love how they work.

Try

Some days are loud and you can’t bear the sound of your own buzzing thoughts. These are the days that you know you won’t try.

I REMEMBER

So, why am I angry? I’m angry for the way that we lost him. That we had to lose him at all. What I want to say here, falls apart. I stare at this paragraph and the screen blurs. It is futile and it is anger. It is loss.

Writing hack anyone?

At hour 11, just to keep pushing, I found myself writing when I had forgotten how to write a proper sentence. How can that be good for me? Because, despite that, I was still writing.