Write Drunk, Edit Sober.

Today I did something out of the ordinary.


I did a tarot reading in Asheville, North Carolina. Different right? I remember being a kid, when I would go see my dad in Smyrna every other weekened, and I would see this “phsycic office” on the side of the road on the way to his house.” I would laugh, because this is ridiculous! It’s like Madame Cleo from late night television, supa crazy. But I gave it a chance today. Hey, it was 25 dollars and I was in the mood to do something different so I said: “why not!”


To summarize: I don’t necessarily believe in this stuff. Even though the tarot card reader may have made me cry….

I’m emotional ok!

I think something  spoke through her to me. It was like, she was real, you know? It wasn’t like Professor Trelawney from Harry Potter with her crystal ball. She was a normal person. And she didn’t “predict my future”, but she did lay out things I was going through?

All my cards showed one thing: change.

Which is the inevitable. But I felt it before she even said it, so it was kind of just a re-iteration. She said in the next year: “The Chariot Year”, I would prove myself.


That’s all I’ve wanted to do for… the longest. I want to actually put forth effort into something. Something that I love. I know I’m on my way, but this experience — pushed it.


I bet this mighty river’s both my savior and my sin.


I love wine. I’m tired of writing.




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