Rainy Monday

The sky hangs, grey and the rain falls heavily.

I’m wrapped up in bed, listening to  the Stones – Memory Motel. Christ this song brings back a lot of memories. Funny that.

Cat is curled up next to me. I think he likes the stones.

So, this is the last week ever of my course. I can’t believe it’s over. What a journey. I can’t believe I have a Diploma. So weird, and sad and exciting all at the same time.

Also, its official (well almost, haven’t  been accepted yet) that I’m ‘going’ to Massey next year. Holy crap, since when was I ready for uni. I must be growing up.

I don’t think I’ll be working this Summer. But i’m starting to realise that I don’t need to clean motels, or pack groceries or try and sell materialism is some sparkly shop. I don’t need to do that to be someone or be accepted or succeed. Just because most people go through the process of doing crap jobs. I’ve had this thing, like an infection, eating my insides that cries out ‘but I don’t have any experience’. What for though? If I want to be a writer, working at a supermarket won’t help that. It won’t. It could give me money, but what’s money anyway? Its the matrix, the big scam of life. I’ll get by.

I feel really inspired right now. I feel like wearing dresses and taking lots of photos and writing poetry and drinking tea in the garden and doing stuff for Row.

I’ve launched back into my book. I had about a month off. I think that’s how writing goes. Sometimes you just have to stop. And accept that you are taking a break. Now I’m writing again. I can’t believe I’ve written 13152 words. It makes it seem more real, more genuine, more possible. I’m really going to do this. For real.

I’ve this weird thing, where I feel like a bit of a joke when I say I’m working on projects and writing and stuff. I feel like a bit of a phoney. I don’t know why I feel like that. Because I’m not.

I have a diploma. I’ve written 13000 words. I’ve submitted 15 poems and 6 stories to competitions and journals.

I’m a writer.

I feel like I should stand on a roof-top and shout that really loudly over and over and then it might sink in.

I don’t know.


Leet sleeping in my art stuff.


Summer is coming. I can’t wait.

I’ll write again very soon. Hopefully when the sun is shining. =)

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