below the cut are all my works catalogued according to the above sections. quotes are also mine.
‘it’s literary because i say so / it’s original because you did so.’
poems
still i write them. still i bring them into existence.
how do i begin to explain
16.3
dearest
as i am now, with you
excerpts from my diary (ft. my notes app)
march 1
march 12
notes app excerpt #053
an ode to my fallen comrade, my laptop
may3rd.
getting yourself out of a rut
visited a museum and
my promise to you
chaptered works
pieces./ -- part one | part two | part three | part four | part five
‘a writer disconnected from the world /
may only find themselves /
by writing into it.’
F1 pieces
[🏎️] the cult side of f1
[🏎️] the growing cracks of formula one
[🏎️] why daniel ricciardo really, really needs to well in australia
[🏎️] thoughts had while marshalling a grand prix
film/music
after life / ricky gervais (2019)
personal essays
on mixtapes
an open letter in defence of creative pursuit
an open letter in celebration of creative pursuit
some thoughts on kendrick lamar's recent disses
‘fanfiction is the self-indulgent reclaimation of art.’
one-shots
[🏎️] antinal | cs55
[🏎️] stomaching you | mv33
[🏎️] stuck on the puzzle | dr3
“I do not write every day, I read every day, think every day, work in the garden every day, and recognize in nature the same slow complicity. The same inevitability. The moment will arrive, always it does, it can be predicted but it cannot be demanded. I do not think of this as inspiration. I think of it as readiness.”
I will be kind in how I think of you, especially in the angry moments. I will be kind in how I speak to you, making sure that my words aren’t biting nor my tone mocking. I will be kind in how I decide to step away and breathe, remembering that you are you and I am me. We’re not mean to each other, that’s not us.
In fact, any time life throws a rock in the path, we can call out to the person for help. Even if it’s just to complain. Even if you can’t help me past the rock, because I need to do that on my own, I know you’ll be there to tell me I’m doing a pretty good fucking job. I know you’ll give me a high five when I eventually stumble way my way through. I know you won’t blame me for the stumbles, because you’ll be patient enough to realise it’s life and you’re there to help me get through it. Life doesn’t get between us.
Because we’re best friends.
My brain won’t have any leg to stand on with the anxieties and doubts. Why would it when there’ll be a plethora of evidence? The evidence in all the shared laughter, in the shared lore drops, in the sharing of support, of advice and of gossip. All the times you’ll call me out for caffeine abuse or not eating properly, and the times I’ll call you out for - well, I honestly don’t know yet. But I will, because I care for you as you care for me; and I’m starting to see that you will genuinely want the best for me. Especially when the ‘best’ isn’t something I’m giving myself. I can already see it happening when the kindness you have for me reminds myself of the kindness I have for me and I skip out on the multiple cans of energy drink and finally allow myself to sleep.
I will be kind to remember that you’re never against me for the very fact that you’ve never been against me. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have become my best friend. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have denied yourself the immediacy of now to protect and nurture a stronger and deeper connection. For whatever reason, this logical sign of green still makes me stress because I’m being seen. But I will be kind to not give in and take the anxiety for poetry. I’ll learn how to use the words again and that when I’m telling you about the idea behind bubbles, it’s not a performance but just you getting to know me. As you already do.
In every iteration of me and you, I promise to be kind. Because in every iteration of me and you, I hope to always be staring into the eyes of my best friend.
