Saturday, January 25, 2014


Tonight, I found myself alternating between Sabina and Sinatra wishing I had some whiskey to enjoy. I had a pen and a notebook and I was ready to drown my sorrows on paper. But instead I began fantasizing about how liberating the moment was. I am never more myself than when I write. I am transparent. My writing has taught me that. Yet, I know that will not prevent me from hiding from myself... in the shadows... even if they are just words...


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