june 1. i went to the market, for asparagus, strawberries and rhubarb, then it rained the rest of the day. the rain made me sleepy, nodding in the corner in the blue swivel chair reading not a novel, a memoir in pieces, thinking how do writers have thoughts worth writing, how do they manage to write their thoughts in words, were there words inside their brains already waiting to be written down, it's amazing to me. i go blank and i get anxious thinking i have no clue, no ideas, no story, and i never could nap, i always started awake the moment i began falling. i'm lucky i realize, to have the luxury of time to be empty and anxious for the lack of words.
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