He looked me in the eyes, and with the utmost seriousness a man could muster, he asked me, “What happens if writing dies?? What if technology has made us irrelevant?!” What then?!”
I couldn’t look a man like that in the eyes, so I looked up the ceiling, and asked him
“Have you ever taken a shit so gnarly in public that you had to turn your headphones down?”
He got a little heated.
“What is wrong with you??”
I looked back at him and smiled.
"Well, have you?"
CH 8/27/23
Isn't it strange that everyone you've ever known has a different idea of who you are then you do? . . . Some of them might think you’re a reserved person. Some of them might think you talk too much. S
What will you be after your beauty fades away? What will be your energy? Will you still be kind? Will you have developed your mind? Or did you spend all of your time stuck in the grind? What will you
I’m not too familiar with the sonnet And I usually say, “Bless you,” when I hear the word haiku I didn’t go to college And I am not a well full of knowledge I bite my fingernails And they somehow end
