From Me

A place for ideas, essays, lyrics, poetry, and more. I post here daily.

I am on a quest. It's hard to tell you what it's about. Probably won't make much sense. And it doesn't really matter.

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Tonight, I took a walk. The moon was bright, Mars was red, and the streets felt different from the daytime.

The night sky was silent. A few stars peaking out. Dim lampposts lining the streets. Leaves pushed to the curb.

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Someone I know said “there's something different about the autumn sun.” And I agree.

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“I walk over the marsh saying I am I: and must follow that furrow, not copy another. That is the only justification for my writing, living.” – Virginia Woolf

I'm listening to Gareth Dickson. Phoebe Bridgers is queued up. There's something about the light of the early morning. I need soft music with it.

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I always wanted to be a writer. Not for any sort of accolade or money. But just because I loved stories. They brought me somewhere. Made me think differently.

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