walls

Brick. I smack into you. Again. Again. You would think I would learn. But maybe that's learning? Looking up from the mud, from the ditch, from the dust at the base of you. Face stinging, hands bleeding, legs aching and shaking. Because I will crash and climb and fall and look. And never stop looking. Maybe that's the best part. Don't look back. Don't look down. Just up. Over.

I looked into writing internships today.  Maybe I'm starting to take myself seriously.  Maybe.  Mostly I'm desperate to prove you (all of you) wrong.   This is not just default.