Edit: This is the original about me. I’m updating it. It will be on another page.
I started this blog after a night of binge drinking of wine, which is why it is a appropriately named as “A day after the bottle”. Yes, I intended for the entire thing to run together, mainly because that’s how I see when I’ve drank a full bottle of Pino. Yellow Tail, too. Not a bad brand.
There’s a lot to know about me: I have a journal where I free write, with a pen, that is full of crazy things. I love wine, both red and white, and enjoy everything about it. Oyster Bay and Cline are my two favorite cellars. I’m a painter, though I suck at it, and I’m an English major. I’ve fallen more in love with Poetry lately, especially Zachary Schomburg, but I don’t neglect my favorite poem of all time, Church Going. It’s by Philip Larkin.
I have a family, but it’s much bigger than just my immediate family. I’m a care taker and when you become my friend, I give you a special kind of love and admiration. I will help you as often as you need. I like being like a patch and helping when you need it.
I’m also scared shitless. Don’t let my confidence fool you, it’s a rouge. I constantly battle, internally, with all the demons that fester and wallow in the pit of my stomach. I have a devil on my left and a devil on my right. Sometimes that angel makes an appearance, but most of the time, she hides. She’s scared, too, of the devils.
I’m love. I hurt. I ache. I dance. I cry. I sing. I’m free. I’m writing a new chapter of my life, by myself, but with my friends. I don’t believe in marriage and I struggle, constantly, with the idea of organized religion. I don’t know if I believe in heaven.
I miss my Nonnie and every time I see a dragonfly or butterfly, I think of her. For the first time in three and a half years since she passed away, I had a butterfly land cautiously, but happily, on the back of someone that I have suspicions of. I don’t know what it means, but I feel that every dragonfly or butterfly is her telling me things. When she passed, I would see fields covered in them, and they would dance in little cyclones around me. A few days ago, a dragonfly sat atop my head with that very same person. Suspicious, I tell you.
I’m rambling. Welcome to my free writing, except, this is at least edited for grammar.