Monday, September 15, 2008

I want to make every day a work of art. I accomplish about 30% of my potential.

Couldn't sleep last night thinking of erythromelalgia, the crack in my computer case, and everything I've written that no one's ever seen. Age mellows, but don't you miss the fires that used to keep you strapped to your books in college. Will music ever be like it was when younger? When I met my boy I said to myself, this makes me feel like a teenager. I think I have held onto some of that tiger throat. I don't think you lose that if it's woven into your bones. If you have to create, you do it. Being rich or poor won't stop you. Heartbreak and betrayal won't stop you. Not even stability. Every year I become. I'm learning how to sail, this year. This year, I'm going to get some things published and make some goddamned money, goddamn it. And none of it will stop me, because I've learned a hundred times from a hundred hollow people that when you stop growing, you start to die, and I still have so much to do.

Don't you ever think of how lucky we are? That the tossing and turning dreams and nightmares always end? That there is someone spread along you with a working heart? That we can wake up like this smelling each other's skin?

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