The weekend is passing effectively. It’s somehow Sunday morning… I sufficiently cycled another 24 hours 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
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
Namaste love family
TGIF bitches… this week has been as equally horrible as the preceding.
I’ve been writing a lot of poetry over the past 48 hours. I wouldn’t say it’s helping, but at least it’s distracting.
I pride myself on not taking anything that matters to me lightly. The trick is picking what to take on as significant while spending time on the perplexing planet of Earth that we share. Regardless, we all make our own choices. Continue reading
i can get
used. by(e) – Continue reading
I’m about to bleed poetry.
I’ve had my apartment back to myself for two days since having company for three weeks; as my soul mate‘s family revealed health issues back in Italy, which means he’s out the door.
I don’t think I’ll ever stop crying at this point. But that’s ok, eyedrops help, and at least I’m discrete. Dipping into restrooms, trying to avoid houseguests.
Sto morendo. Continue reading