#writingitout

🥁🥁🥁 . . . #thoughts4thoughts #showyourwork #writinginmarker #writingitout #newyear #whodis #fuckthehow #this #is #it #begin #start #splash #bestill #beyou #xoxox (at Toronto Pearson International Airport)

#AuthorsVoice #VoicesInMyHead #WritingItOut #BooksAreBorn #InsaneAsylum #MentalHealth #LegalWays #EscapeTheSystem #IndieAuthor #DontDelay #BookDrought #NewBritain https://www.instagram.com/p/Cn_6C9iuklk/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

My whiskey is beside me and my coke; but, I’m lacking the energy to make myself a peg and so, the dust collects- until the next Saturday night, until the next monthly holiday; until the next reason to down it with the unreasonable lump in my throat. My life is, if I start ticking off boxes, pretty good. Things in their places and others will eventually fall into theirs. I have no reason to feel this way. That scares me too. https://girlintheswing.wordpress.com/2019/03/30/0836-pm-despondent/ #saturdaynightdespondency #thatswhatifeellike #writingitout (at Dr. PSIMS & RF) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bvo8acxnavGya2--_9k4-l3XXmdYcBOocfR_v40/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=rykjllg51bou

I can still remember my last birthday, I celebrated with my mum. I feel good, that years before mums diagnosis, I recognised my birthday was not just about me, bit about mum and the journey she endured to safely deliver me. Each year, I would pass on thanks and treat her out in a way of appreciation. On my last birthday, I treated mum to a seafood buffet lunch, and for dinner other family arranged an Italian birthday extravaganza followed by cake and candles as pictured here. I feel when I look at this photo, though candid, it captured a good moment where mum had a good amount of energy and by this time of day, my energy would have in some parallel way matched hers, making this is a good photo. #motherhood #mumswithcancer #memories #fbf #tbt #2014 #birthdayboy #gaysofinstagram #motherandson #family #reflection #writingitout #photography

... author known.. but forgotten #forgotten #writingitout #danceitout #healingtheoughart #expressyourself #wordsheal (at Charlottesville, Virginia)

#TheProcess ... just finished @soulcycle now @bouchon_bakery ... let the download begin. . . . #TapItBack ... Now #WritingItOut #Process #Writing #Writer #Inspiration #Detox #LetItOut #IfMyHeartCouldSpeak (at Bouchon)

Scorch - V.Lockhart Through all of these years, I have never known that truest of touch. You know, the touch which burns into your eternal soul -- unending, undying, unshaken, the deepest kiss, immortal. There have been imposters, for sure, and they have fooled even the inner most cynic; the one who doubts every motive, every inkling of deceit, completely bamboozled. They were incredibly good, these fakers, right until the very end, when I am left, quaking in a bog of my own despair. Wrapped up in the idea that I have been had, yet again, just a big-hearted fool to the end of my days -- til the sun never rise, and the moon never wane. Frozen in my cocoon of fear and hurt and pain and alone, I know the truth. Know that these things never part, they only allow me to be fooled because it's so less painful to pretend, than to admit that I am truly unloveable in that sense. I am not the eternal wish of the charming immortal monster. I am but a girl, fooling herself into believing that one day, one will find a way through my incredibly calloused heart... find the core, and scorch it, to the beat.

Like a wave that picks up before crashing on the shore, I have smoke rising from my throat threatening to bellow from a fire in my belly, threatening to blow, continuining to build, wanting ice or snow. But fires find only forests in my fibers because they spread and dread what the wind blows their way. I speak to fan out the fires a bit and only more hot air seeps in, to my dismay. Why so hot, so full of ire, so prone to fire, they inquire. There are too many dead seeds around me, and I hate to be reminded of lives that could be, lives that could blossom if they were only free. I want to burn the leaves that have crumbled, I want to set aflame the logs that have become rotten, I want to burn this place down, and see a phoenix rise from the ashes. I want to believe in phoenixes again.