Writing has been the siren to my soul calling me to sea for many years. My children are my anchor but I have yet to find a balance. My desire to write furiously is obsessive. I am aching to be surrounded by crumpled ideas, whimsical people, and unabated love. Rather than rushing off to work, I’d prefer to rush to a pen and pad. I’m dying to live again.
it’s 2:22 in the morning & I haven’t written a damn thing.
I’ve strongly considered it but started swiping instead.
then I thought about your pretty lips & thought about writing again.
but I continued swiping anyway.
your mouth is so pretty.
so pretty in fact I can see it going places.
but I swipe some more.
see twitter. Swipe.
see face book. Slide
see instagram. Repeat.
so pretty in fact, that I started to write.
i am currently challenging my imagination to venture in lands outside of erotica….this may take a while.