i don’t think this is very {healthy} for me. i need to write. whether it is on this {silly} blog or on a post-it in my kitchen. i need to. i wonder why i don’t {actually} write a book. not to be published. or {exploited}. just to write out everything i have seen. {felt}. heard. in my life. i am almost twenty-six but i feel fifty. when i am fifty i will probably {shake} my head at the foolishness that my almost-twenty-six-year-old-self spoke of. but there it is nonetheless.

i am {sensitive}. too sensitive at times. words are truly the most {treasured} or {disturbing} attribute that i carry with me. i allow words to touch my deepest. i have never been one to {shrug} it off. i cant say that words make me {stronger}. i feel {weaker} actually – like i must make excuse after excuse for the way words affect me. but i cant. i just feel too {acutely} sometimes. and this is by far my grand {weakness}. or {strength}. depending on the word. that being said. i cant say that my {work} is for my business. or for {clients}. it isnt. it is a way for me to {write} out my words. the words that i cant seem to get on paper quite {often} enough. the sensitivity of the senseless words i experience on a daily basis. i need to get those on paper. or in art. or somewhere besides in my {overly}sensitive self.

photo by {gladys jem photography}
current music}} matt {kearney} city of black and white
current read}} romans 4. mark 1.

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