so i'm still alive. i've just been too busy dancing the artsy-fartsy-disco-punk dance with Migo ^{(as pictured above)}, falling horrendously ill, and attempting to re-start my thesis that i just couldn't be bothered to exert the necessary effort in coming up with an entry. seriously, blogging is starting to fail me.

Painting Murals: an excerpt from Chapter 2

The thing about losing the ones you care for dearly is that you turn into this retard who annoyingly remembers every minute detail – details which many don’t even render into memory – because you have experienced how it felt to have moments cut short. So you savor them: every breath, every word a stranger speaks to you, every touch...because unlike before, you don’t want to forget nor take anything for granted.

You learn. You learn to hold on.

i just realized that i have roughly 8 months to finish this 250-page novel and i'm only less than 20-pages in. fail. also, since i want to try my shot at being published, i still have that flash fiction piece to submit for my mentor's anthology project due early next year. great. time to randomly piece together words and pretend it's a story.

why i even aspire to be a writer i will never know.