Just a story about a pigeon.

I have thoughts...

I've always loved Chopin. So sweet, deep, but always akin to a romantic wholeness. You could say it filled a gap for me - some might call it loneliness. But hear me out, as I've aged, Rachmaninoff is where it's at. The swelling of the melodies, the br...

Here goes nothing; my silence wilts. I write cheap poetry out of boredo- loneliness, I write from loneliness. Honestly, I've written better. I've done so countless times. But when you're alone, high on one of the biggest lows of your life, cliché...