damnit, just write.
write as if the beat of your fractured heart depends on it.
write as if revelations run cold and aphotic through your veins.
this is not the place for perfection. this is not the time for lies.
this is 2am – time for unapologetic oblivion, irreverence and wild rebellion,
ink smeared fingers, dark music and darker dreams.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *