words

i don’t write enough.

it’s november and the chill is enough to numb my fingers, my mind, maybe my whole body. wracked with shivers, this all-consuming cold. but my heart is strong and warm and there is always a beacon of hope. a tiny spark. even when i speak broken, disjointed words, that come out sarcastic and scratchy, there is a glimmer of hope. and just so.

i will be starting a new job; my last day of my current one is next Saturday. i am now in possession of dark work boots; they were too expensive but walking in them is like stepping into some sort of a new existence, an existence which cultivates my physical form and not my mental capabilities, really, but that’s ok. i’m a college dropout so i feel stupid all the time.

i’ve just received a scary text so i must depart.

love