i’ve poured so much of  myself out in public, and for what, and for who. where do these words go when they leave me. i want to write about joy.

the birthday girl is 8 today and already she feels misunderstood

a lot of my anger feels like it can only be aleviated by classical sounds, jazz sounds, and my favourite, the sound of the lighter sparking up my weed 

look at that, a life jacket has arrived