To the anon who told me my blog should only post writing because it is beautiful but all the other stuff is distracting:

While I appreciate the sentiment, I just have this to say:

Writing is as much of me as I am of it, though it is the rawest form of all that I am, and everything I’ve yet to be, written on a profession that my own existence is nothing (perhaps miniscule at best) - and with this I am content.

But.

I am human, and sometimes I just don’t want to be what I wrote above. Sometimes I just like having a light and eager heart and sometimes I just like to eat pizza or maybe drink tea. 

This blog gets to be me and therefore the silly childish aspect of my being gets to sleep here, too. We’re all in the same bed, cuddling even.

I like all of myself, even the bad parts. This blog is the same. So, dear anon, Take it or leave it.