Posting something just for the sake of posting something. Maybe, not really, don't matter.
For once, based on my own merit I feel like I can take charge for Creative Writing, especially after two workshopping sessions (albeit the 2nd and last one was a bit, off-track but generally still okay). This is a good change which I wish appeared earlier. :/
It seems like I can finally put a term to all those works that are queer, relevant, and special when I came across them - literary art. They shine like (insert-something-shiny-but-fancier-here). Poet o poetry, there are so MANY of them out there, the same with novels. My question is will I be able to finish them all?
Been saying meh a lot lately. Most apt word currently because I am not sure what's happening. Seems like history is repeating but meh. (see how apt it is)
Anyway I digress. I am here for those unpublished posts which I realised it seems to be my voice, and I may have found a home for it in myself. How dramatic!
O and Ingrid Michaelson, what a lovely surprise that it grew on me. I'm really enjoying it. :)