Tuesday, 14 April 2015


I am writing my first real article for a 'real' publication, not a student newspaper or something run by a friend. I got here all by myself. I worry, though, that I will become trapped in a cycle of 'but this is more real', 'no this one, this is it', and never feel like I've actually Made It. And how perfect must this piece of writing be? In years to come will I cringe and regret, or be proud because hey, that was the first one?

I have a modest idea of success, but I still need to pay the bills.

My fringe has grown out a little and become softer, more flattering and feminine. It still traps hot air in the morning and fogs up the inner corners of my glasses. I am a quiet dragon rolling through the mists.

I bought a new lipstick called 'Corporate Femme'. The colour is dark red and the formula is oily and sits like a slick on my mouth.

I made a zine, printed some stickers, painted some coats and relaunched my Etsy.

My feet are no longer stuck in the muck and the mire and I have shaken the mould from my bones. For now, I am dancing.

I write. I bake I draw. The dishes pile p, but this is a good place, and I am here.

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