A Scorpio Writes Something I have a leather jacket addiction, so it seems. Maybe it's not that bad. More unbranded than Lewis Leathers. I am constantly feeling stuck in between redneck piece of white trash and upper east side, Manhattan style wanting of luxury...does this Versace go well with mud and 5th wheel grease?
I am a mystery to myself, the levels vary ever so often...maybe I'm too wordy and think too much about very small details that mean nothing. In the outer world anyway, human interaction. However, paper, pencil, and ink are a different world altogether, which in being this way has helped me. Being able to see the small details, and really look at them, study and understand them, keep them in mind and recreate. Getting up early to write the things out that keep you awake at night. I think everyone should try it, just once. Even before work and you are tired, and its cold and the caffeine is still trying to k
Permanently Delete"This will permanently delete the conversation history"
I stared at this prompt way too long this morning and finally decided to hit delete, realizing it was all nothing and should never have occupied so much of my emotional energy. Yet this has still been a vampire, to hit me when I am weak and wondering.
I thought I could make a fiction out of reality, but to go back in my mind and dig out all the little details to make an interesting story has been too much, and I can't do it. I do understand that aspect of it now, how hard it is to go back and make a story out of pain, and it is ever so easy to make up creatures and monsters as a stand-in. I need to burn everything and stop wondering because he will do this over and over again to other people. There won't be a story that I can write that will get that through t