Safon

Safon

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the nominee had no idea he had a fighting chance---less--he thoguht he'd been nominated by mistake---an undersight, perhaps. he arrived, anyway, as a courtesy to the nominators at expense of embarrasing himself. imposters syndrome is realer than recognition.

her life had become a circus but she was no ringmaster----she was a jester in her own show. the clown that reacted to the pulse of what brought it joy--the people---her "people" manifest ed in the form of alcohol. and she would do tricks for it and as a result of ti. th cycle was vicious.

the handlebars head marks--ones that you could see--visible only to the eyes that were looking for the them. they were stained--grey-- faded. she had been theough enough for it to wear off.

her peace was central to her everything else. she hadnt realized this in years--3 to be exact. she allowed herself to glide, hazily, through interactions, and frustrations, and habits until the time came for he to sit hwith herself---again. to see what she'd been missing. to rediscover her herness.

wagon

The wagon carried her secrets. she covered them with a blanket---the thick one from her grandmoters bed. though covered she feared the wind would be the secret's revelaer---peeling the banket back with a gust. she feared

wagon

the wagon was heavier than expected. she loaded it to the brim with all she thouht was necessary---nmot taking into the account the fact thgat she would have to carry it all with her. what necessary immediately chagned. now she was forced with the taks of unloaded those things little by little that served les purpose

the hoodie she was stil lsmelled of him---that slight stench of musk and coconut oil---she inhaled the memories of the better times when this space felt safe---that space within his garment the space within him. she now inhales the m

the hoodie was his weapon---or so they thought. they hoodie represented all the things that were hidden that they wished that they could see. the hoodie held the secret---destroying the hoodie allows the secrets to flow.

stunt

The stunt didnt go as planned----they never do. she had it all mapped out from call to response. she perfected the exchange and even considered possiblity for wild card---just not wild enough. the stunt started as practiced but ended in disaster. the end is always what gets ya.

stunt

the stunt she pulled on herself was the worst of them all. she was the spy and enemy target all the same. she didnt try to reconcile the difference just played the team that called for her the loudest at any given time. she pretended to have a fav, but that too was a lie. she

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writing since 2013 · 211 entries · 206 days shown up

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

14longest streak

206days written

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on this day 12 years ago

Safon wrote about brushed
“i brushed up against success. it was smooth, cold, and silver feeling. it was hard for me to remove myself from it's contact. i sat there, leaning against success for a while. feeling cool, smooth an…”

the words Safon reaches for

momentnowtilloveheartchoosechoicewrongdonedifferenttruthdeepdidntrealknowingstood