Pen, Conquerer of Anxiety
Right in this very moment, I smell like a week-old plate of french fries. Which is interesting, because I’ve been on a strict no-diabetes-in-a-red-box-of-sin diet. Deeper than that, stronger than this stench sticking to me like a second-skin, I am thumbing through my journal. It’s a leather-bound notebook, designed by Patricia Nash and gifted to me by my dear friend. Through out the day, it … Continue reading Pen, Conquerer of Anxiety