sockmonk

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Fragile, that's what vases are. She had broken it at her feet, her mother's prized vase. It fell with a clatter to the ground, smashing into tiny, refined little pieces. She gasped. As far as she was concerned, she was dead. She could see it now, her mother's furrowed brow, looking down at her with disapproval. "What did you do here?" She'd say.

secure

A sudden rush of calm came over him, feeling absolutely secure now where he was in his life. He had never felt that way before. Normally, he felt tense inside, not calm and secured. But this time, this time he felt good and he couldn't quite explain why. Maybe he had just reached the most important chapter of his life.

writing since 2009 · 10 entries · 10 days shown up

each square is a day—lit means Sock showed up.

2longest streak

10days written

0.1entries / week

on this day 17 years ago

Sock wrote about constant
“It was constant in the back of her mind. Whirling and twirling like some kind of twisted merry-go-round that never quite ended. She felt as if she was slowly going insane; no time to think, no time t…”

the words Sock reaches for

clothescomfortnowrockfunreadydisconnectedfellloveshoothandsfeelingeyesgirllookingfitting