I recall those September days, freshmen year, when I attempted Taylor Swift songs on an electric guitar, tracing the words of a once lonely soul. I could not have imagined I’d one day be twenty-two with nothing figured out. Flash forward to tonight.

And I keep writing, as though this is my salvation from the mess of a story I’ve created in the past decade. I continue on a trying path towards the boy I met on the Ambassador bridge when I was ten-years-old.

Without vision and cause, I prepare for a season of solitude and renewal.


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