Allow me to begin honestly. I am unfinished, like the rest of you. Perhaps even barely a beginning.
I was raised on soul butter, in a world where some larders are just crumbs.
I have been writing profusely to navigate the world. My pages are my sails.
My own sea is one that has been diagnosed with mental disorders and the ships are all flooding.
Simply put, I am a human before I am a writer. I will drown for you in my head if that's what it takes.
Why do I do it this way, you ask?
To involve everyone in filling themselves with something other than things or careers or loathing or injustice.
To expose what we conceal in closed walls or wars or muscle or in that crackly pile of leaves that are our memories.
Love and truth, let the rest come full brunt and hurt me as it does.
Now a question for you: Why not?
"The world is paradise, and as soon as everyone realizes this, paradise will be established across all the world tomorrow." -Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov.