I just got Ani's new album today which is so beautiful. So many people bitch because Ani is not this and that and whatever the hell like she was when she was a twenty something fury. But how could you expect her to still be that, and more importantly, why would you want that? Stuff like "my cunt is built like a wound that won't heal" and "it's mr. DiFranco to you" is great in an unapologetic, fuck-you sort of sense. But what Ani is putting out now is so much more.

"Maybe your chest is just an empty shell with ribs made of spiraling coral where a perfect pearl of sadness resides."

Her writing is insane. She is in complete control of every syllable. It's stunning. Weaving herself a little web of perfect metaphors. I'm held captive by her words.

So fuck all previous goal lists because I have a new goal-- one single goal. I must gain some control over my words, I've got to get my brain in shape. Because I sit around living for Ani lyrics and Barbara Kingsolver novels and Anais Nin quotes and wishing that words like that could be mine.

It's not that hard, Anna. Just write this shit down. There are five million stories that roll through your head in a day. Write one of them, obsess over your own words, stop being afraid of your own voice.

But don't write anymore tonight.

Get off and go to bed already.

Yes, inner-self. I'm so glad you're around to kick me in the ass when I need it.

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