I want you to know that nothing is wrong with you.
Th emptying out of everything we think we know about ourselves, this crap we’ve picked up about who we are and replacing it with something else entirely.
Most of my writing is purposefully measured. I equivocate on my opinion, not because I don’t have one, but because I believe we’re in a time of increasing divisiveness — and I choose not to add to that conversation.
Imagine this all exists inside of you just waiting for the moment to burst out into the open air.
The artist must art.
I am forever fighting against perfection.
I too have yearned for a simpler existence, a metaphorical cabin in the woods away from the pressures of modern life.
Love is being acutely aware of how quickly someone could ruin you.
Nobody gets to tell you who the fuck you are, for one.
I remember when I used to abhor routine, when waking up before 9am was a form of torture I only subjected myself to for early flights or hungover stumbles to the kitchen for water.