Blowing Smoke

Celebrating a year of writing and losing my damn mind 😉

Mah Butt Itches

I started writing a year ago.  At that time, I was a mess.  I look around now and see that the more things change, the more they stay the same.  When I started writing, I was going to “figure my shit out”, but I’ve come to realize that my life is more akin to the only port-a-potty at a festival.  I wanted to find concepts hidden by words I didn’t understand: peace, happiness, and love.  Writing gave me hope, but in reality, it gave me more questions.

A few months ago, those questions would have been a repetition of the same tired monologue I’ve carried as long as I can remember – “What the actual fuck is wrong with me?!”  I solved that one – the answer is everything and nothing.  The gift writing has given me is another concept I never understood – acceptance. …

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