The drafts & trash bin are my real diary. So rarely published. Or reviewed. My words annoy me. So, I get it. I feel neurotic when I’m at my best. & I think you have a complex. Just remember to let it go.
She should be nicer. More present. Tonight I played my flute. In tune.
& last week I got a keyboard from an estate sale. I’ve been messing around. But I have to be in the right mood. It’s felt unwanted.
My plants are still alive. They look healthy. Henrietta too. She lives in a doll house.
Been feeling red lips. Power moves.

Ps get out. More. & finish stuff. & pay attention to details.
Step Into My Office, Baby