In the beginning, the very beginning, I said: you're gonna break my heart someday, boy.

The title of this journal is watching the cycle: leaves to mulch to soil to leaves. It's because that's the only thing I can count on ( Read more... )

This remains an uncomfortable space in which to write. I feel like my elbows will poke people, like my words won't ring. Ignoring that, I'm going to write in an attempt to take back space. I will allow myself to be personal again, and I'll remember that anyone who doesn't wish to read only needs to stop going out of their way to be here ( Read more... )