i've had a few drinks and am ready to spout out some of this nonesense floating around in my head.
crits were today. i spilled my guts out on the page and was fed back a half decent response.
partially left wondering where all this information fits in my own universe.
i like to make things. where do they fit in the grand scheme of things?
this self doubt creeps into my being and comes alive with wonder.
I need to remember to play some more.
enough with all this working.
i need my play time to be my work. fused into one.
enough with the intellectual,
you are killing my spirit.
remembering to be true to myself, becaue when I do what i love the rest falls into place.
the garden is all i've really wanted to do,
and that was what people loved.
the rest came out of hours of thought.
I'm much better at loving.
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