I'm Brett, suburbanite ginger trying NYC on for size.
I'm a dreamer, a try-to-write-r, an amateur photographer, and lover of all things coffee and theatre.
Someday I'm going to tell a really great story. Don't forget me.
What is the point of anything
Like why do we fight so hard for love and acceptance and meaning and joy
When everything sucks and people leave and marriages end and kids get bullied and people get ridiculed for who they love or what they wear or what they look like
I’m so tired. So tired. What is the point. I didn’t come all this way to wallow in depression and cry at night.