leggere

wrote an entire page tonight. really happy. hoping that i will finish a good chunk or all of this project by the end of summer. then it’ll be time to get an agent and look for a publisher. enough of this nonsense of not making my dreams become reality. 

the dream of being published, of FINISHING something…. probably the longest unwavering goal i’ve ever had. my interests are generally pretty transient. my attention wanes. but writing and wanting to publish something i wrote…. it’s been a dream for longer than i’m actually sure of. i can’t put a year on it. it’s just always sort of been there. keeping me company. 

insha’llah, insh’allah. 

letter to every failed friendship

What I really wish my silence says to you is that I wish we still talked. I wish I could just sit in the same room with you and just be. But instead, I'll just do what I always do and quit before the start. Give up before the race even starts. Make the walk of shame and blame it all on you. Blame it all on your insecurities that I despise so much because I see that I have the same issues.
Act passe about it but get angry and bring up how much you bother me with your bullshit. But I can never say it to your face. I love my honesty but when it comes down to it, I can't even look at you. No eye contact for anyone. Too intimate. So I keep my thoughts to myself and resent and get sad. Find something else to chase away the demons that I have allowed to live rent free in my head for years.
I wish I could talk to you.

what the fuck.