Julia cameron awaits me in my bed.
She guides me to sleep and to create.
For some reason my breasts are like, really big feeling today.
I think they notice, but I can’t tell.
I can’t tell much really.
Flem in throat.
Yuck. feels snotty.
Must not sleep tomorrow away.
Should do taxes for real.
Tax returns need to pay for everything.
Without money that has not been very wisely locked away.
Far from my wine stained hands.
Far from beautiful things.
I want them all.
My mom says that was my first sentence.
“I want that.”
I haven’t changed much.
Ears are itchy.
Must sleep for real or else I might sleep through life.
Twitter numbs me.
It’s 7 am.
I am pulling all of my hair out.
The world is waking up.
I should stop. I should sleep.