I Can’t Breathe. I Can’t Dream.

I Can’t Even.

I want this to be a lie: some dystopian world I fell into through the back of the wardrobe closet. I want it just to be a dream. So now I guess, I equate dreams with lies, hmmm. Interesting, huh?

Maybe you know what I am rambling about, and perhaps you don’t, so let me clue you in. Let’s talk about May 2020.

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jax skalecki

jax skalecki

I became a writer the moment I could mark with a crayon. Nowadays, I prefer purple pen. Serendipity is finding a creative space to be, with my dog as my #1 fan.