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get the words out.
Write in any genre in
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cosmos twenty-some species
of flowering plant
the fast paced logos
a renamed focal
point of morals.
Dethroned totems
breathing fire in the chest (more)
The first drink she sips in the company of friends.  This drink chips away at the plaque that has collected from her daily grind. The pressure of work, the bills, the light that has started to flicker in her kitchen, the click in her jaw when she chews her gum:(more)
Cosmos. I’m floating in fucking cosmos. It’s not fucking okay. I hate waking up like this. I’d like at least one of my feet to touch something solid, at the bare minimum. Plus, ouch. The hangover is not making things better. Is that Jupiter?
Behind the manicured beard, he was still the goofy kid she had rollerblade-limboed under a clothesline with when they were younger. Along the way, everyone thought they had lost him to the folds of failure and teenage angst.
It is that time of day. For me I notice the feeling about 5pm, when I'm fresh on the clock with 7-Eleven coffee bilious in my throat. I notice it most on muggy, grey days, days that signal a change in weather after two weeks of sun. Nothing days.(more)
"My life sucks and I want to die." Ah, that feels better having it written down. Guess I'll see what tomorrow has now.