relax

Here is the letter to me

Not Cheetah but only Jenny

Not many people know you

But that keeps you steady.

People call me posh

but rolling stones gather no moss

the goss, their loss

You lie up there

waiting for this song to write 

You keep on sitting for singing

Am I wrong or right?

Right now all exits seem the same

Try not to cycle or start to blame

this used to be fun

to rhyme and hum

there wasnt the stress of being the one, hun

why not come?

beat your own drum

when is coming up now, your own sun

Hale from Lon-don

but the inspo doesnt come

not gonna lie i feel so dry

why cant you  just write it

why o why

my oh my

 I think punishment is coming. I don't want to phone Matthew I don't think he likes me or wants my call. Were having an argument about having an argument. Is these two sentences enough? Ok so maybe punishment isnt coming. Each time I talk with him he closes up a bit more.

 I remember the excitement of this. I met Christine today and we talked a bit about journaling. I was so good at this it feels bad to be a beginner again and its so stupid. He's offering you what you really want and some people he is instructing to be a martyr. When I have this I have all I want.

"Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space-"

"-or so they say."

 Listen to me! So hold fast. Don't even bother."

"My husband depends upon it; after the first few times, so did I."

If a women screams in the desert does she make a sound?

  i am afraid of a blank page. I don't know who i am writing to. I flip it round...what would have happened if it was writing that I had dived into instead of painting...