the world & words of a new york city writer

gretchen is a writer in new york city

Tag: thinking (page 1 of 49)

Because it’s me… also Australia

After switching all of my plans and extensive $12,000 puppy relocation efforts… I made an executive decision.

Australia or bust kids…

While living close to Europe for so long, whisking in and out in a seven hour blink, has been divine… I’m not yet prepared to retire on the southern coast.

I’ve been excited to go home for too long. Therefore, the furry creatures and I will leave New York City for a drive across country in two weeks.

I will endeavor to have my blah-g fixed up in time. Once I get back to Oz, I’ll have heaps of time to bring things back up to scratch.

Being in Manhattan over six years, I’ve barely had time to sleep…

Damn. Time flies when you live in midtown. Real talk.

I can’t wait to start my new phase of life with husband number three somewhere in the tropics. I found a job that looks like it will stretch my brain right in a neighborhood I’d like to reside. I’m going to write them a letter and see what happens.

I feel like I’m running as fast as I ever have, while being as still as I’ve ever been.

Strange things always happen when it’s time for me to bounce across continents…

I haven’t really been around to talk about my life in a minute. Here’s to what lies next…

but it’s ok…

Three husbands at 39 is a lot…

Everything I haven’t said in Interfuckville is inked.

Love and light, good luck… more soon

boys in the back

girls in the front

 

talk about. hey now…

Continue reading

face kicks. life licks.

The past week-ish hiding in the forest immensely helped my head. The roughly 14 days that led up to this particular stint was head spinning to say the least. A lot of life-culling has been taking place behind the scenes.

Regardless of consciously projecting love to whatever’s around me at any given time, I keep a small click close. When I’m not deliberately breaking my phone, there’s usually about six numbers in it.

It’s not that I’m misanthropic, it just happens that the worst I ever get hurt is off the back of human behavior. So rather than expose myself to the risk at close-hand, I admire from a far and silently blow gold kisses that I hope contribute to the creation of a higher state.

I’m steadying from a throat slit that came from left field. It was an inadvertent slash from one of the most wonderful people I have ever met. For a minute, I believed it was a divine addition to the soul circle keeping me together. The ones I share the best secrets with.

The person I fell in love with left as fast as they appeared. I shed tears and wrote a poem. I guess that’s what I usually do.

Killed Commitment

my heart
collapsed
at the hit
from one
voice. declaration
and detraction
like i cannot
be any part
of my truth —
crushed another
way of false.
i wished
he knew
we shared
the same
scar.

 


Matalan
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