RELATED NEWS ITEMS// I set a little (eighteen-paged) book into PDF. I am working to improve how it looks. I am playing with it in a higher-powered publishing program but perhaps I will have it printed before then just to get it out. I will leave it at art galleries. I will leave it on the street. I will leave it in crannies and nooks between polished wood and brass.
On Monday, high off a heart-pounding (pain, going to die) poor-choiced stimulant sponsored forest run, later holding a little dog wincing in pain forty times, one by one as the quills pulled out, blood, blood, jittery hands and explaining (I can’t control myself, I can’t lie down, I need to eat, my hands shake, I need something to calm down, to dilute the stimulants, to metabolise the adrenaline and let myself breathe, breathe)– on Monday after all of that I discovered that I was accepted into Humber’s Post-Graduate Writing Program. I left them a terrible message after I found out, fueled by the day, and was worried that they wouldn’t let me in. I’m in (I think). In a couple months I find out who I’m working with.