The summer after my freshmen year in college — I was – lost. I didn’t know where I was going, and even though I knew what I wanted, I couldn’t have it. That year I became one of the only first-years in college, to drop fifteen pounds, even though, I had worked since January, full-time, at an Olive Garden. That summer, on nights off, I wanted for everything. And so, when I was alone, I would get in my car, and drive. Coffee in the cup holder, and a pack of cigarettes in the passenger seat, and just drive, till the restlessness subsided Read the rest of this entry
The kinda night, where the clouds roll in with a storm, just as you thought you were going to lose your mind to the heat and the sun.
The kinda night, where a poet gets on stage, and reminds you, that if you want to get better, it is about damn time you took pen to paper.
The kinda night, where friends tell you they will cook pizza with you, and you know it is more than calories that will help build layers around your broken heart.
The kinda night, where you drive home in downpours that wash away dust, while the Goo Goo Dolls remind you that “everything feels like the movies, and you bleed just to know you’re alive.”
The kinda of night where you get to the top of your stairs in your apt, and get down on your knees to thank a god you don’t believe in for reminding you, that if you want yo get better,
you have to write.