Sometimes I wonder if I am losing pieces of myself. The part of myself who loves to write. The part of myself who absorbs words, bask in them and swim in them, early morning hours for work be damned. Then I catch myself scribbling down phrases or sentences in my notebook, and I am comforted. I may have not been writing fiction as much as I keep going over plots and dialogues in my head, but my love for words is still intact. Wholly. Completely.
Turns out that amidst everything else in this life, I didn’t even have to try and force myself to read something or negate my love for words for something else. (Being bribed for a million dollars is tempting but I draw the line in using my gift for something dishonest. *pause* But yeah, that’s very tempting. I’m not too keen on selling my soul for monetary or material things, though. Coffee and chocolates, however, are an entirely different set of bribery. One that I’d probably — Kidding. I’m kidding.)
My trusty white pocket notebook which I carry with me wherever I go has a couple of pages left before I get a new one. It’s filled lovingly with words, words, and more words plucked from books, articles, Instagram captions, podcasts, a witch’s stew, a warlock’s throat, blah, blah, BLAH. Are you tired of hearing 50% nonsense yet? Good news! I have spared us both from getting sucked further into The Void of Nonsense (It’s where blacked-out-drunk people go, didn’t you hear?). Scroll down below to add more arsenal to your vocabulary. Or to add more flair to your cursing. “What the ever loving Lucullan fuck is going on?” will surely impress those around you. “Your twee asshat of a neighbor just called.” works wonders, too.