first freedom essay winner academic papers writers essay on good manners in kannada https://drtracygapin.com/erections/treatment-for-shingles-valtrex/25/ https://themilitaryguide.org/14days/cheap-custom-essay-writers-service-au/55/ go to link viagra generic italy online postgraduate coursework university pay for someone to do your essay https://caberfaepeaks.com/school/essay-checkers-online/27/ follow link introduction paragraph of an argumentative essay follow https://njsora.us/annotated/aujourdhui-si-mon-anniversaire-essay/29/ watch maths problem solve business persuasive speeches https://www.aestheticscienceinstitute.edu/medical/clomid-twins-pills-for-sell/100/ https://abt.edu/bestsellers/should-use-generic-viagra/22/ essay honor https://sdchirogroup.com/savings/cialis-effets-indsirables/33/ essay on advantages and disadvantages of coeducation follow an essay on the principle of population quotes about success dog allergy prednisone follow link click here follow link enter https://eagfwc.org/men/prednisone-effects-long-term-use-ms/100/ enter site watch Currently sitting at a café in Washington, D.C. I’ve been away from Verm for two weeks now. It’s been magical, ya’ll. Believe me when I say I really needed a break from that town and all of the ridiculous people it. Nothing brings me back to life like a much-needed trip to the city. It’s like waking up from a nightmare.
This trip was very good for me. I made peace with quite a few things going on in my life. I reconciled some issues from the past in regards to my hometown. I had a deeply spiritual experience in a graveyard. I saw old friends and family members. I spent way too much money on shopping sprees and delivery/takeout. I did a photoshoot. I wandered around the city aimlessly, searching for answers about my life.
Most importantly, I met two writers who are Making It! One is a freelancer with a successful business and the other is a train conductor who self-published a book and sells copies of it out of his suitcase to random passengers on the train. Meeting these two writers and conversing with them inspired me to write again for the first time in many moons.
So what did I do? I picked up some legal, fancy designer weed, ordered a $22 custom salad and bottle of rosé for delivery, took a CBD bath, put on my favourite local hip hop radio station, and sat down with my notebook.
There, in that tiny, historic hotel room smack dab in the middle of downtown DC, I had my second enlightening spiritual experience of the trip. For the first time in two years, everything was clear to me again. My post-Paris writer’s block finally drifted away and I was left with nothing but the words on the page.
I finally saw my two books/short story collections clearly. I saw my memoir clearly. I saw my blog and scripts clearly. I saw my goals, my dreams, my projects, my path, my life so, so, so clearly. No one was there to question me, or gaslight me, or insult me, or scream at me, or berate me. No one was there to tear me down. It was just me and the page, alone at last, and nobody was there to stand in my way.
I can only hope this inspiration stays with me and carries me through the next few months. I know what I have to do now. I’m not going to let anyone stand in my way. Especially not those ridiculous people in that ridiculous town. Who are they, anyway? No one knows. No one cares.
Do you know what people in DC say when I tell them I’ve been living in South Dakota? They say, “Is that a real place? Do people actually live there? Why do we even have two Dakotas in the first place?”
No, it’s not a real place. I made it all up in my head just for the sake of writing a story. It’s all just an elaborate nightmare I had while I speaks lying in a coma in the hospital. It doesn’t matter what those people say, or do, or think. They’re not real. They’re just another story.
Therefore, it doesn’t matter what they say. We all know they’re going to buy the book anyway. I don’t need their approval or validation. They don’t know anything about the world and the world doesn’t know anything about them. Therefore, who cares? I’ll write whatever the hell I want and I don’t care what anyone has to say about it anymore.
So here I am, leaving my hometown once again. This time it’s different. This time I know… I will always be able to come back here and find my home again. No matter where I travel to or how far I roam, I can always come back home. No, it’s not the same as it used to be, but it’s still here. It lives inside of me. Home is the memory that lives in my heart. Whenever I’m lost, I know I’ll find myself here.
*sniffles and wipes tears away* Sorry, I got a little emotional there. I just love DC so much, you guys. There’s no place like Home! ❤️
Well, I’m all out of money now so I gotta go back to work. I have something lined up when I get back, so hopefully it will go through. It’s not ideal, but it’s money, so I just have to suck it up and hope that another unhinged psychopath doesn’t interfere. I mean, it’s South Dakota, so my expectations at this point are pretty low, but I still try to hope for the best.
I have 5 trips left on my train pass that I have to use before Oct 10th. That may or may not happen. I might just hop the train and circle around so I can write. If not, I definitely feel like I got my money’s worth, so it’s okay if I can’t do another round. There will be other trips to take in the future.
As far as the writing goes, I really hope I can get it done. I am currently laser-focused on the two projects I took to Paris: Bloody Mary’s and Travel Tales. I had a very clear vision of how I want both to look in their final forms. Yes, there will be tons of new material in both that hasn’t appeared on my blog. What doesn’t make it into the travel book will be going on the new travel blog. See what I did there? Neat!
Yes, people will still be mad about Bloody Mary’s, but… It’s just like, whatever, you guys. They need to just shut up and get over it already. Move on. I told them five years ago I was writing this book. I’m sorry they’re still mad, but who cares? They haven’t really tried to fix things and all they ever do is rag on me behind my back, so… they don’t really get to complain anymore that I didn’t represent them well. I’ll represent them exactly as they are: a bunch of dicks and assholes. They made their choice. Hopefully it will teach them a lesson about treating people better in the future. If not, who cares? No one even knows South Dakota exists, lol.
I’m only making it into a book because people still get on here and read the stories every week. I should be making money off this shit, especially since they’ve put me through so much. I worked hard, I earned it, I deserve it. I’m not sorry about their widdle feefees anymore.
Thinking about going back to the strange little town. Ugh. It’s definitely not my favourite place on earth. I’m not excited about it. I’m not looking forward to it. I hate everything about living out there and a week back at home in DC reminded me of all the reasons why.
However, this time is different. This time I’m motivated. Motivated to finish the books, motivated to work, motivated to save money and get the hell out of dodge as fast as possible. I can’t do it anymore, you guys. I’m over it. I hate living in the middle of nowhere. I HATE it! I’m a city girl at my core. I do not belong in a country world. It’s time to get the hell out of there forever.
Time to go now. Wish me luck on keeping my inspiration and motivation going. I need it! Covid lockdowns and the post-workshop block had me spiritually dead for the last two years. I need this clarity, ya’ll. I need it!