To work feverishly as if you’re on your deathbed.
To write until your fingers are numb and indents are worn deep in the crevass between the thumb and pointer finger and on the side of my middle finger.
Ironic it should be there because I don’t give a fuck, I’m writing. Bitch don’t kill my vibe!
I have to succeed because I have no plan b.
I eat, breath and believe in myself. You have no choice but to believe in me too because that is how assured I am.
My intelligence and imagination should be in prison for its murderous ways. Don’t hate, suck your ugly teeth or roll those eyes…well go ahead, I’m not paying attention anyway.
My eyelids may waiver shut but my hand keeps writing, it’s incohesive with my mind. They got this!
I have so many stories to tell so many needing to be told so be patient lil ones, they’re coming!
Peace and luv!
Posted from none other than your favorite writer’s favorite writer Ms Talia