the world & words of a new york city writer

gretchen is a writer in new york city

Category: blog (page 8 of 200)

i can’t lie. puppies.

I think my abrupt honesty with regard to my emotional state can be startling to some people.

img_5166I know I said that I wasn’t going to talk about him anymore, I’m not. I’m talking about me…

I’m still not good. Saying that I’m worse than I have ever felt isn’t really stretching it. According to my best friend, one time I was worse. Continue reading

holding me up

img_7299Regardless of what part of the planet I reside on… there is always a circle of some sort around me, holding me up.

In the instance of New York City, there are two fine gentlemen – one originally from the Bronx, the other from Brooklyn – who have essentially been carrying me around over the past month while I grieved the loss of another (not to mention favorite) love.

Love is for suckers. Continue reading

less face kicks

Namaste love tribeimg_7285

I have been sleeping a lot lately. ┬áThis 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

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