A new #Substack essay on strange strangers strangering in wildly unpredictable ways #writersky #amwriting open.substack.com/pub/gimmewor...

Skipped the schedule for my newsletter for the first time since I started it. And instead of criticising myself per usual, I felt calm and assured for taking decisions to find some grounding over bleeding myself to meet deadlines. Yay me? #writersky #amwriting #writingcommunity #substack

I am a writer. I cut open my empty moisturizer tubes to squeeze out four more days’ worth of product. I apply the moisturizer, feeling rather grand, and stare at my empty page and bank balance. #writingcommunity #amwriting #writersky

Coffee may or may not increase anxiety - that's a problem for after I've romanticized the coffee-making process and taken my first sip and gone “ahh”

My latest Substack essay on a different kinda love-hate relationship open.substack.com/pub/gimmewor...

Slow reading Beloved by Toni Morrison and marveling at the blend of various genres and forms so masterfully executed by this genius woman

In the quiet splendor of the night

The switch from “I ran!” to feeling like an “also ran” is a sneaky one isn't it

For a person who “doesn't like to plan too much,” I sure find whales swimming inside my body a little too easily at the slightest change of plan.

I look at some of my old writing and cringe hard. I also look at some of my old writing and gaze at it in awe, asking that version of me to lend me her confidence.

Oh how I underestimated the power of a good massage! Today I learned a nice long massage stimulates the parasympathetic nervous system and shifts your body to a calm state instead of a fight or flight state. An achievement for someone as hyperalert as I am. Tears tears 🥲

"You look happier" "Thanks. I just ate."

Erased, blended, engulfed By the moon's grace Emerged, submerged

Sometimes my anxiety likes to sit between my throat and chest, stretch its legs, and put on a sunhat. As I've found out the hard way, the best thing to do is pull up a beach chair and sit next to it. Everybody wants to be seen, everybody.

Wrote just over a 100 words Of poetry that's likely bad And I won't use anywhere But I wrote Sometimes that's enough

Everyone's good, I'm good too. Everyone's really good, I'm not bad. Everyone's SO good, I… have imposter syndrome.

I need my space but also sit next to me but also don't speak to me but also let me love you but also know when to leave me alone. I ask for very little.

Anyone else just so. very. tired?

Why did the sun never tell me it beams off moonlight and carries her in its cradle?

Sat by the balcony to watch the sunset, looked at my phone for ONE SECOND, missed the sunset

You were handed a life but not taught to live it. And that's the best and the worst part of living: the joy of discovery and the ache of emptiness.

Few things make me sadder than hearing someone say “I don't like this person because they're too nice.” I cannot imagine the distrust one must have experienced in their life to not be able to believe in the goodness of people. These are the people I instantaneously wanna hug.

The very cool folks at @lostballoon.bsky.social published my flash nonfiction and gave me the best start to this year 🥰

It's okay for the mind to be a little empty if it makes your heart full

The only teeny tiny gap between me and my novel’s publishing is its writing, but everyone tells me to not worry about the minor details so I won't bother with such trivialities.

Hello Bluesky, allow me to offer you an imperfect hence lovely flower by way of an introduction 🌸