the world & words of a new york city writer

gretchen is a writer in new york city

Tag: thinking (page 7 of 48)

thirty seven days

As fate would have it, the love of my life is leaving for thirty seven days. I understand the commitments of global IMG_4924citizenship. But fuck. Am I going to be one cranky scribe.

Scrittrice. Continue reading

dissotterrare zelo

dissotterrare zelo

era come
Guardò fuori
per me. e noi
innamorarsi
prima che qualcuno
avuto la possibilità
a lampeggiare. sognare …
prima non avrei mai potuto
essere qualcosa
Che si adatta un certo
forma; H e I
formata insieme.
E i miei occhi
ha aperto. le mie labbra
disse.
Niente.

unearth zeal

it was like
he looked out
for me. and we
fell in love
before anyone
had a chance
to blink. to dream…
prior to i could never
be something
that fits one certain
shape; he and i
formed together.
and my eyes
opened. my lips
said.
nothing.

 

hold your heart

Namaste blah-g tribe

Yesterday was one of the best days of my life. I don’t really say that often, good days, maybe – best days? Not so much.

My best day involved a 24-hour stint with the apparent love of my life; wandering around Manhattan, feeding each other dark chocolate, watching hours pass from park benches and swapping secrets in international ways.

My favorite part of the day was in my midtown abode, roped in braids of sweat, being serenaded in Italian. That was without a doubt one of my ultimate, “Holy shit, is this actually my life?” moments. Continue reading

tahiti. two steps home.

Namaste blah-g family

I’m sitting in the 2am moonlight, with very little clothing (ok,none), a glass of French rose and a lot on my mind; on the deck of my personal water hut – tucked away along the Tahitian coastline.  Continue reading

from brooklyn to italy

I’ve been vacant a few days. This has resulted in a couple of interesting things. I shook my boyfriend off once and for all. I tried to be upset, but I’m used to dumping boyfriends by now.

I’m not even sure if these people are boyfriends. Maybe they’re just lovers I briefly obsess over because I’m fond of the poetry it all bleeds. Continue reading

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