there’s something so beautiful & peaceful about the cotton that’s been floating in the air.
i wonder if this is something i’ve always enjoyed… remembering becomes a task, now i see why it’s so important to journal & document everything.
there’s something so potent about writing it down with pen and paper—i’ve taken the pen and created fantastical worlds, shaped & reshaped my life
unknowingly becoming a wizard with my hands, my own two hands. i underestimated this power.
it is in fact lonely at the top. maybe the world is shaping in favor for me… maybe it’s truly my time, to rise like the Artist i’ve meant to become. maybe this is my year to shine.
i’ve only counted wins, all year… it’s May now… almost halfway there.
i’ll be 33 in August. i wonder if things will feel the same inside. i wonder if i’ll finally hit the gym regularly.
maybe i’ll be—have been blossoming into the greatest version of myself.. this draws near the end of my journal (it’s not quite over i can probably squeeze more in here.)
i started writing in here in 2020, right at the start of when my art started to be collected, inside of it(my journal), carries such intense highs & lows written up for the cosmos to see..
i have a need for foundation & consistency, seems like that will be a running theme. the karma. of family curses prob…
i have a longing for a second half. part of me writing today was from an overwhelming feeling about someone i met recently. they need more help than me. i’m offering loyalty and a solid person that cares, but dude addiction is a mother fucker. i hope he gets the help he needs & can find me later to offer stories about how he overcame his demons.
(ive never really known anyone i cared about to endure addition like this, i mentioned it to some people who have dealt with family & friends who battle it—it’s a legit battle for them & they have to want to get better.. seems there’s many reasons that cause for folks to pick up these habits, unmet needs seem to stem a lot of it.. —edit for clarity Sunday May 26th 11:09AM,)
i walked around a majority of the day hoping i could fine “Hermes”, or John.
downtown Shreveport feels different.
today felt different— 7:58PM :’^)
Handwritten Notebook, Leeaux the Artist
