Imperfect Motion

The truth. Told out loud. Whispered in my pillow.

I think each time I write that it may be the last time; then I’m charmed by something and seem to have to say something.

Marianne Moore (via theparisreview)

the cycle continues

somebody left a screw on my desk.

Turning the corner into the future
Full force
It is what you make it

It’s a latte kind of morning

It’s a perfect imperfect day! No looking back.

my patience is stretched
my mind is jumbled
my heart is diced
my future is what i make it