Fragments of a Female Consciousness….

nothing more than neurotic & divinely chaotic thoughts.

Just me. Just you. If you care to read. Nothing more.

Just me. Just you. If you care to read. Nothing more.

It all started with an email.

No wait; it all started,
with the social media platform know as Instagram.
Hashtag, instalife, Igcrush, igdaily, inspiration.

But thats not really true either. It all started when I was aware. Aware of my own consciousness. It all started the moment I allowed myself to give over to the totality of my thoughts. Of my being. Some kind of idealistic bullshit I’m sure.

Not really here, not really there. But completely everywhere. Nothing more than a stream of my consciousness, words flowing on a screen, long lost. But not really lost just dormant. Just laying quiet like the roots of a majestic gnarled tree waiting to spring forth, to bloom with life and freedom. Just waiting for someone to validate the chaos. To see my reflection in the words of another and know Im not completely fucked up.

I suspect I am. But only a little bit. Honestly, I promise.

So if you dare to venture into my rabbit hole…..
into my fragmented, self obsessed, messy, selfish, neurotic, divinely, painfully beautiful stream of consciousness, then welcome.

Im no poet but I can be prosaic, there is no story but you will find a narrative. Im not a comedian, but ill make you laugh. There is no edit, but I’m a perfectionist. No filters, but ill over think it all. Tonight as I write there is nothing but silence while my head is full of noise.

Take my hand. Come read with me. Nothing more than random babble about nothing and everything.

Sincerely, dear words, Im yours forever,

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