Rebecca Violetti: Wakeupnfuck

She wrote once: “I don’t want to be your muse. I want to be your emergency.”

So I roll over. The other side of the bed is cold. It’s always cold. I light a cigarette even though I quit two years ago. I pour a whiskey even though it’s sunrise. This is the “wakeupnfuck” reality—except the “fuck” isn’t physical. It’s metaphysical. It’s the act of fucking your own peace of mind. wakeupnfuck rebecca violetti

I spent three hours today scrolling through her archive. Not the highlight reel. The crumbs. The typos. The 3 AM rambles she deleted two minutes later. That’s the real art. The mess. She wrote once: “I don’t want to be your muse