I always wanted to be an artist, but I never set out to be a poet, I always thought it would be better to be a painter. Specifically, someone who could paint realistic portraits of people’s faces because, according to my 5th grade art teacher, that is the best kind of art. 

Do you feel like there’s a secret formula to life that could bring you success and happiness if only you could figure it out? Me too. Have you heard of Think and Grow Rich? I have such a f*****g problem with this book.

Now he sees everything upside down.  He forgets that he is mad at me, he forgets that he is sick, he forgets that he doesn't want to do anything.  

At that moment I had my own Epiphany, one of those simple and profound realizations that changes everything: A reflection needs a place to live. 

Today’s letter ended up being a poem.

How do you turn off love?

I haven’t figured it out.

I’m still stuck on:

Why would I?

Anyway, how are you? Tell me something awful and sad, let’s not pretend that we always see the positive. Something in me wants to bleed, and I feel like . . . maybe you do too?

I was writing a book. I might still be.  Three years ago I signed up for a “write a bestseller” course as an escape from the day job. I thought I might be the next Liz Gilbert but while I was writing the book, a funny thing happened: I decided to stop measuring my life to my dreams as if they weren’t already the same thing anyway and . . . stopped writing the book.