the world & words of a new york city writer

gretchen is a writer in new york city

Category: blog (page 11 of 202)

less face kicks

Namaste love tribeimg_7285

I have been sleeping a lot lately. ¬†This isn’t sheerly a depression factor – though that has slightly contributed.

I lucid dream. I have since I was little. Some people argue this is a conscious activity opposed to dream-state, I’ve never really heavily invested myself in the debate.

I usually dream about lovers. Since my latest kicked my face a bit, I’m trying to put myself into a state of less face kicks.

I’m not sure why I end up with so many wanky dudes. It’s beyond me. And while I enjoyed the company of a husband I loved very much for nearly 10 years – the conclusion speaks for itself. Continue reading

mind moving

My mind has been on moving over the past week and change. The lease in my midtown tower expires come July, and I’m about to be out.

Usually, when it comes to leaving the states – I say, the further the better; which is partially how I ended up in Australia for ten years.

My heart exploded in Sperlonga, Italy and is beating on the beach’s white sand – waiting for me. Continue reading

ten hour trance. suppression.

img_6715I slept for ten hours. From roughly 3pm to 2am. I woke up, phoned a friend, and sooked some more.

However, today is Monday. I have things to do at work. I’m eternally grateful for a full-time writing job. It demands that I focus in ways outside of my ordinary thought patterns. Continue reading

he didn’t realize

The weekend is passing effectively. It’s somehow Sunday morning… I sufficiently cycled another 24 img_6743hours of crying and sleeping.

In my latest emergency call to David to cry about the luthier; he brought forward a new theory to my present state of disarray.

“I don’t think he realized…” Continue reading

maestro di crepacuore

Someone told me yesterday that they found my writing to be romantic. My reply was, “I think I’m more of a master of heartbreak…”

Maestro di crepacuore.

I honestly do believe, after my most recent heart slashing, I’m done.

Finnito.  Continue reading

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