So today Ryan goes: baby did you write in your blog today?
Me: I've been sick all weekend, what you think?
Ry: but it's Sunday!!
Me: Um whatever.
Even the dramatic form has taken over my easier moments. So tells the story of my days I suppose. Work and work and More. My writing is in my construct of scene work and play critiques, the poetry grows between the invocations of the dialouges in my head on African literature and forms.
My head hurts. to bed I go.
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