Always in the must of making.
I make to feel connected to the memory of her spirit. I see her in a divided timeline. I love her stance.
woke up drowning…
The salt in my lungs, I am left wanting. It is the paint peeling I need to fix on my washroom. It is the in the pink sound of an ice cub being razor shaved. Can’t get it out of all the parts and pieces of my mind.
When a true wave hits you in the face and flicks you at the beach you’re kind of done with anything ever stopping you from your life goals. You stand up, wipe your eyes and swim around the big wave to reach what you need or go over or under.
I see now I need to treat fear made by social media the same way. I need to get stronger about swimming past it. I’m not perceptive to the algorithms and to be honest I want the sales from it not to be famous for them for the speck starlight they give you. I get older and remember Myspace fondly but I recall it didn’t equal out to a hill of beans when it died.
Gotta be the change.