the world & words of a new york city writer

gretchen is a writer in new york city

Tag: listening (page 5 of 41)

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

“i’m pretty, but i’m loco…”

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

around. it’s hard. opera.

img_6523I was speaking with one of my favorite people yesterday who commented how I haven’t been around.

Truth be told, the luthier fucked up my game for a hot second. So yeah, she’s right. I haven’t really been around. I’ve been out and about – all over the place.

My heart has been kicked around at this point to a degree where getting over another break-up has taken on a new tone. I used to try to think of what could be done differently, or how to fix things. Continue reading

settle. learn. scribble.

IMG_6055Alright. I think it’s officially sunk in that I was recently whisked away on an escapade to Italy for a week of utter bliss and incomparable romance. My relationship with the luthier has essentially evolved beyond language.

I’m settling into life, it’s strange. I still have itchy feet and tend to be short with my spoken words – alas, my world is entirely different. Like, everything is completely different.

I was trying to explain this to my besty David last night. He reckons I’m dreary and that I should be in all of my literal glory at the moment. I don’t think I’m dreary, I’m adjusting. I forgot what being happy was like. Continue reading


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