For some reason I felt like writing.
I never write anymore, I'm not really sure why it is that I don't. Perhaps because I find people who must and do speak their mind whenever and wherever possible a little disturbing and obnoxious. But I'm not writing to speak my mind, I'm writing to write.
Last time I wrote I ended up ripping the pages out of my over sized black sketchbook with these heart felt words plastered throughout, out, and shipping them off via UPS to an EX who had inspired words which, at the time I thought were genuine, yet were based merely on a facade. I cared nothing for those words anymore and merely wanted them out of my possession and them out of site.
Now I find myself sitting at my laptop spilling out random thoughts that surge into my brain that somehow then find their way to the ends of my fingertips.
I feel like Carrie Bradshaw the curly headed cute petite girl with the fabulous wardrobe yet instead of some type of overpriced sugar filled cocktail at hand, I sip on the all Americano domestic fine brewed beverage of choice for the time: Bud Select.

That is all for now.
S. Cavalcanti