It’s time I remembered that I’m worth more than whatever sixpence affection you have to offer.
She has scars birthed from cruelty, but they’re made beautiful by how proudly she wears them.
Fall semester officially starts tomorrow.
I’m beginning Nursing school and that’ll be eating up a lot of my time. It’ll be harder for me to actively keep up with those I follow here as well as on my other social media accounts, so expect quite a bit of ghosting from me. I apologize in advance. But if you ever want to get in touch, I do promise to keep up with comments on my sites, emails via the contact page, and messages on Facebook and Instagram. Don’t even try Twitter, Tumblr, or Goodreads. My inboxes there are a mess.
I have scheduled posts set up until early September, so expect posts to only begin dwindling after that time and until mid-December when the semester ends and I’m offered a blessed break for two weeks, before coming back early, EARLY Spring. My life will be hectic for the next two years while I’m in the program and doing clinicals, but these breaks will allow me to focus again on blog writing, however, brief.
I don’t stop writing completely, mind you. I do work on my Heartstone series all throughout the year when the mood strikes. I also type scrawls and poems on my phone when they come to mind. Though getting them to wordpress and my other accounts is another thing entirely… but they will get there. Sooner or later.
I wish you all well, and I hope your Autumn is much, much more enjoyable than mine. (With far less studying.)
Premature wrinkles over furrowed brows are a testament of my old regrets, and even older grievances. They’re the echoes of a time when the world was flipped on its side and all the roads stretched out before me led only to awful choices. Some of the turns I made were light and swift, done without much thought, while the rest brought rivers of tears down my cheeks, salty stings that are only good for softening the harshness of the rest of the world.
Regardless, each decision still lingers like unshakable sand in the back of my head, making time pass strangely when I’m alone and caught in the shadow of my own darkness.
“Where Did It All Go Wrong?”
by: Noel Gallagher
Bare your soul,
Raise your head,
Watch how easily
this cage crumbles.
I don’t understand why we must do things in this world, why we must have friends and aspirations, hopes and dreams. Wouldn’t it be better to retreat to a faraway corner of the world, where all its noise and complications would be heard no more? Then we could renounce culture and ambitions; we would lose everything and gain nothing; for what is there to be gained from this world?
-Emil M. Cioran, On the Heights of Despair
Time heals, or so it goes.
After all these years, I think my wounds may be infected.
Well, I’m being offered some book signing slots by a few local bookstores in downtown Savannah for the next… four days? I have to check the schedule. I do, however, know that it begins tomorrow. I think my cheeks are going to crack from all the smiling I’m going to have to do. Well, it’s good publicity if nothing else. I’m going to promote my Instagram like a religious doctrine because reaching that 10k follower mark is taking fifty thousand years.
Anyway, if any of you guys live nearby, I’ll be around.
I’ll be heading up to New York to meet up (and crash with) an old friend right after though. He’s a sassy concept artist that leans towards all things strange, disturbing, and creepy… and I’m going to convince him to draw a pigeon doing the cha-cha.
Because of this very urgent business, posts on IG will dwindle for a bit. I’ve got scheduled posts for wordpress, so all should be good on this front. I’ll be keeping up with comments, and I’ll more than likely be active on FB. Maybe Twitter. (But I don’t really like it there. That blue bird is evil, I tell you.)