I'm a twentysomething writer and editor living out my dream
one day • one picture • one avenue • one story at a time.
This is where I overshare and constantly write tiny love letters to New York.
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I wish I spent half as much time WRITING as I do googling, facebooking, downloading and emailing. Is it naive to consider myself a writer if I can’t even focus my attention on words that aren’t related to work or google searches?
It’s 3AM. Can’t sleep.
