Category Writing

So this is what love looks like…

I spent a few days with my friends, some of whom are in love + feeling tired and envious and, honestly, lonely = words and tears.

I'm in bed, just past midnight, and there is something I need to say about relationships.

Sitting in a cafe in Raffles City, looking out at the storm through the tall glass panes.

I'm working, writing, and this little gem on the cake gave me pause.

The cake was good too.

I am overwhelmed by desire while on the train, and this needed to come out.

The television show is Bridgerton, by the way.

I'm... a personification of her guardian angel. I don't know why I'm a white guy, with wavy dark hair.

Did I suddenly hear Taylor Swift's Mirrorball playing in my head in the middle of writing this? Yeah.

Here's a bit of an encouragement.

I was so frustrated with how a day went that I had to sit and write my first poem.

I can only write if I'm being real. I must be authentic.

You do something almost every day and suddenly the perspective shifts — 20 years of journaling and I learn something new.