the door to the pub is closed it’s already midday I keep walking never breaking stride once more around the block pretend to the world that I’m just...
still editing. not even sure if I have the mental energy to even try and submit another manuscript. the eternal nightmare of the writer. ugh. happy new year
my mother has left me a voicemail I haven’t listened to it yet I know her voice is lingering inside my phone it’ll likely be her usual rambling news...