This evening I have been feeling insanely inspired, scribbling in my notebook like there is no tomorrow. Nothing makes me feel more complete than putting words on paper. I love what I do so fucking much that I feel as though I have not one heart, but a hundred million juicy, beating organs in this glorious bone cage.
I am coming close to completing my first short story collection, and have started a short book about anorexia which I intend to have printed (using a local printer) in limited quantities, along with a number of other publications (including two new poetry collections) in time for the new year. Though tough at times, this life is magical and I am deliriously happy.