Here is the piece I wrote 2 years ago. It's basically a conversation between the and my heart. It just felt better to put it on paper at the time.
Kittle Warning: Language
“speaking with a drowning heart”
Heart: "Is the pain coming from the art, or the art from the pain?!"
Penny: "The pain was definitely there before the art. It’s been here a long time."
Heart: "Then what the french is it?!"
Penny: "You think I know?! I’ve been trying to write my way through it for years."
Heart: Bullshit! You been trying to write until you find a meaning-not a strategy.
Penny: " I have of late,—but wherefore I know not,—lost all my mirth."
Heart: "Smooth... Shakespeare-ina. Smooth."
Penny: Well I did pay over 2,000 bucks a class to have those velvet words shoved down my throat.
Heart: "I’m not the one who thought college would give a clear answer!"
Penny: I just thought that at some point a clear path would emerge, but I see a million paths- A MILLION paths diverge in the wood, and I sit at the bend, doubting each choice.
When did you first know what you wanted to do as a job?