Well look, at least I had the motivation to write something- no matter how distastefully written and ill-substanced it was. Well, there's the fire. Part of the "hard, gem-like, flame." Maybe I should start reading real literature again, but who has the motivation for passion these days? And by who, I mean me. Night.
Spotlight
- mynameisjane
- hi, with warning. i am entirely damaged and crazy with masochistic tendencies and an addictive self-destructive personality. but i am in the trials of self-recovery- though thoroughly failing in the process, here's to hoping- one day- someday. in form of pure tried articulation of the written word, this space keeps the highly erratic and darkly emotional self reflection of my contemplative life with bits of sunshine scattered in between. i am a mess; i absolutely create disasters and inevitably fuck everything up. so decide if you are one who actually thinks and chooses for his own mind or one who is fated to predestined cowardice, forever running away like the rest of the narrow minded sheep in this world and unable to embrace the violent and bittersweet storm of harsh realness.
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