Wednesday, January 17, 2018
Tuesday, January 16, 2018
Hello, is it me you're looking for?
I used to write. All the time. In high school and the years following, it was on paper. Sometimes in fun ink colors like pink or aqua. And then I got a computer and started typing. One day I learned about blogs (though I think we called them "live journals" then?). Over the years I've had various journals/blogs but somewhere along the way I started writing less and less. Which is sad really, as I have always loved writing. There has never really been anything preventing me from writing though - except myself. But even then, it's not like I was telling myself NOT to write.
I just...didn't.
It's not that the thoughts aren't there, it's just that for some reason I stopped writing them down. I stopped the clickety-clack of typing them online.
I don't know why.
But I miss it.
I miss writing.
I miss a lot of things about myself though.
I miss me.
That's who I'm looking for.
I just...didn't.
It's not that the thoughts aren't there, it's just that for some reason I stopped writing them down. I stopped the clickety-clack of typing them online.
I don't know why.
But I miss it.
I miss writing.
I miss a lot of things about myself though.
I miss me.
That's who I'm looking for.
[untitled]
You are everything I wanted.
And everything I feared.
(Apparently I had drafted this in April 2016 but never published it. I wonder why.)
And everything I feared.
(Apparently I had drafted this in April 2016 but never published it. I wonder why.)
nightmares
(first draft)
(revision)
At night when I close my eyes to sleep
demons I thought were long ago buried deep
rise to the surface and cause me fright –
and I awake with shovel in hand at the morning light.
01/16/18
A.R.M.
At night when I lay me down and close my eyes to sleep,
demons arise that I thought were long ago buried deep.
They haunt me
and taunt me
and cause me such fright!
Then I awake at the ready, shovel in hand, at the dawn’s
early light.
01/16/18
A.R.M.
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