Babie
I left the Bambi with the trees. Sometimes when I write, I feel like I’m letting go of leisure and instead chasing a thrill.
Irish Bliss.
Ginger’s Ice Cream!
Bunny feet.
How to not objectify oneself in both writing and in life (the same observation)
Whispers, secrets, medications
Opulence appearance
Not wanting earrings at certain times
San Francisco babes
Almost Famous
yeah, I just do that
here
The zoos and Outer Banks
Above! Delightfulness for the weather up there!
Petty and a delicious peppermint mocha for a treat
Decaf for the child, pets with some exuberance for light
Psychosis deficit. No don’t. peruse the pleasure-depletions of a full dopamine poignancy
weeks of delving into meticulous crafts yet zero persistence for stillness
he is in my SOUL
oh gosh Trey and thee moments
sexual inadequacy…devotional sensitivity. I can be a bad feminist but I must create art that is benevolent rather than burdensome!
Fragile and gentle, porcelain doves
crying at the chapel, he climbed up
telling me about a teacher god count the WAYs
running from the June bugs, take me to Church
hose down the hunt for dopamine
Dylan constructs yoga and healing; I conclude my profiles for a detailed observation
I can now watch the headphones go by but find out I didn’t like the snack back then or now
But the November bronzes and benign snails treat me with a company for truth and wistfulness
Left that car in summertime, still spooked my sights but I mustered up the bravery for some mustard, banana flavored discards, and a sweetness for the non-jittery butterflies of L-theanine “leisure.” Truth.
Pitch Perfect, outside, and a desire for peace and a depletion of water to aggravate the kisses upon missing observational delights. Hi Girl. Meets. World. Run and no sleep to Brooklyn, actually no sleep until Brooklyn. Meet Again. Bye, Run don’t walk to Grandmother’s. I found some courage at a picnic spot, maybe I am restful.
