αȥɨα🏹🪽

[excerpt from my novel, small birds]

okay but why is the coffee shop always the perfect vibe?

sometimes you write a book in ten days or sometimes in ten months or sometimes even ten years

there is so much art that i want to make & so many hours in my day spent not making art but kind of making art in other ways bc i'm living

the nervous system of the caterpillar during metamorphosis

Nobody hates u more than someone who’s faking something you naturally embody.

doing your “best” doesn’t absolve you from accountability. sometimes your “best” caused harm. misusing the gift that is grace to shirk off responsibility in accepting the consequences of your actions is a deep character flaw that requires conscious realignment & personal…

Tweeting? You mean corresponding with my colleagues from around the world?

writing a form of worship, too.

I am guilty of being the person who doesn’t text back for a week but also guilty of only texting when I send ten texts at once

And winglengths and feathertracks

oh, there were signs (literal)

birds travel in wavelengths

spent the day with my best friend and our wings are still there! we are both still birds!

are you depressed or do you have suppressed creative energy that’s being crushed by the unrelenting hellscape of modern society and the uber rich?

i love how substack reminds me of blogger