Ruined me, you in me. Ruined me, unimaginably. Light bolts in ruins as hands brush on door knobs; dreams caught in view-ins, tears spill over backdrops. Ruins within and ruins without, the whole world entangled in what I'm about. Breaths …
A no-bullshit guide for the lost soul starting on its path in the competitive business.
What would your city smell like, if you were to bottle it? Here's what mine would be.
A painfully honest take on a week's worth of writer's block . Also in it, the reason why I am generally undateable.