I'm doing 32 things
I’m not done doing this – obviously – but I’ve set a goal to write 500 words on something, primarily a journal entry every day for a year and I’m coming up on my second anniversary for this.
laivine's Life List
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1. Keep my room clean
2,662 people -
2. Go to Ireland
2 cheers1,891 people -
3. publish my novel
1 cheer156 people -
4. finish what I start
1 cheer4,068 people -
5. stop missing lost people so much.
4 entries . 3 cheers11 people -
6. go to the gym regularly
1 cheer820 people -
7. keep epistolary closeness with my friends
1 cheer1 person -
8. learn gaelic
3 cheers623 people -
9. actually learn to play my guitar
1 entry . 3 cheers545 people -
10. collect corsets
6 cheers4 people -
11. accentuate the positive, deemphasize the negative
2 cheers116 people -
12. learn about kitchen witchcraft
2 entries . 2 cheers5 people -
13. say what i mean and mean what i say
1 cheer236 people -
14. publish a poem properly.
1 cheer1 person -
15. talk to people I want to meet and know
1 cheer1 person -
16. make something wearable.
1 entry1 person -
17. try to like someone who might like me back
1 cheer1 person -
18. show my intellect
1 cheer4 people -
19. write full-time as a profession.
1 cheer1 person -
20. go to graduate school and get my MFA
2 cheers7 people -
21. study the Tarot
1 cheer5 people -
22. promote Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab.
2 entries1 person -
23. have a lucid dream
251 people -
24. learn to mix drinks really well
1 cheer3 people -
25. have energy throughout the day
1 person -
26. deal with my mail when I get it
1 cheer12 people -
27. publish a piece in 5280
1 cheer1 person -
28. be more self-confident
3 cheers583 people -
29. find a job i really love
1 entry . 1 cheer59 people -
30. re-design my website
511 people -
31. Fill every idea/sketch book I own
2 cheers188 people -
32. Start reading for pleasure again
6 people
Recent entries
exactly the weight of realizing that maybe you are fading. And maybe that’s healthy and well.
I scramble to pick you up like dropped marbles, and there’s too much for my hands, to carry in my pockets, keep safe under my tongue. But I can’t bear to leave even one behind.
That glassy shooter. That could be the one I kept the love in.
I don’t think this ever stops pulsing.
I don’t think about you much, but all the same, I think that’s only cause I don’t stop thinking of you.
I don’t think about the air, but I’m still breathing it.
Letting you drift from my mind, dissipate into a dust the air can carry away…it’s suffocation, it’s death.
So you’re here, in my pocket. And you’re not doing anything, saying anything profound or novel, not touching my arm with those fingers or implying that thing about that guy from that band was a total lie, not reading a book or smiling or moving…
But all the same, you’re the little thing that keeps me alive.
