planning on spending the next couple days engrossed in work

throw myself into it

one of those find a reason to continue on sort of adventures in not wanting to curl up in a ball and die

when i was a teen i stood on the railing of a bridge

i watched the water beneath me, and i knew not to jump because of sand bars and the risk of a broken neck

it’s funny

i wrote a short about a guy jumping off a bridge to kill himself, the best fiction comes from reality

the best lies have a grain of truth

when i jumped off the bridge as a teen i sunk down to the muddy bottom of the river

my foot got stuck and i lost a shoe

freaking out as the water rushed

my breath was failing

i broke the surface at the last second and barely made the shore

in my dreams i never make it to the surface

the dreams come with a greater frequency

so since love didn’t come, and faith didn’t materialize, and hope is a lie with bitter grains of truth

work it shall be

work and more work and more work until the only thought i have is work

not kittens or dream girls or loss

not anything