from the journal:
Love is a luxury to a girl who has been incredibly used or incredibly successful. She doesn’t need it, but she so ardently wants it. She catches herself before it becomes an obsession; he was staring to become her obsession.
~~~
I have scars from you shaped like the lies you told me,
but I still made space for you;
to grow inside my heart,
pressing against the walls.
there was no space for me
there was no space to breathe,
but you wanted more.
from life:
This month my blood, sweet, and tears were dedicated solely to Dreamspyre. This show started as a small bud: a dozen books, parabolas, and button blocking. Now it is a masterpiece. I miss Hypatia dearly and I can feel a void filling my soul where Dreamspyre once was. Even though I am so proud of how well we did, I grieve for it because it’s over. What gives me hope is the idea that we touched people in the audience and helped the voices of forgotten women be heard.
As I look through my journal, a lot of the entries are despondent and I think it’s due to pure exhaustion that my dark thoughts need somewhere to settle. I hope next month I will be able to discover inspiration in literature.