I’ve been writing Anyway

I haven’t slept great lately.

The kind of rest where your body lays down but your brain keeps stitching things together. dialogue, images, poems, entire scenes that I forget by morning.

But I’ve been writing anyway. Little pieces. A poem while dinner cooks. A paragraph during work.

Most of it doesn’t feel “big” or “worth sharing,” but that’s the trick, isn’t it?

The work still counts.

And sometimes the small things are just the start of something deeper.

I’ve decided to stop waiting for the perfect mood, or the ideal moment. I’m writing because I need to. Even if it’s weird or messy.

That’s what this whole site is for.

The draft never sleeps. And neither do I, apparently.