You're Doing Just Fine: Prose & Poetry from a Past That Was Never Present, Paperback

Contributor(s):

• Author: Charlotte Eriksson
• Other: The Glass Child

Take a shower, wash off the day. Drink a glass of water. Make the room dark. Lie down and close your eyes. Notice the silence. Notice your heart. Still beating. Still fighting. You made it, after all. You made it, another day. And you can make it one more. You're doing just fine.

Named after the poem that has been shared over 700,000 times on Tumblr, this is the third book from young author and songwriter Charlotte Eriksson. A collection of prose and poetry with the themes of hope, healing, loneliness, and learning how to bloom in solitude. An exploration of the life of a young artist with an aching heart, urged by a wanderlust that leads and directs, and the simple task of learning how to live with yourself.

Quotes and writings from the You're Doing Just Fine has been widely shared and embraced by like-minded communities such as To Write Love On Her Arms, The Artidote, Wordporn and The Good Quote, wracking up hundreds of thousands of likes, shares and comments on each post.
Writings and poems from the book has since the release been published on Thought Catalog, Rebelle Society and Bella Grace Magazine.

Charlotte knows her reader so well that it feels like she's writing my very own journal.

You can get yourself a small room in a new city
where no one knows your name
just yet
but they will,
for they will see you walking quietly through the market on
Sunday mornings,
and sitting at the cafe on Tuesdays
scribbling thoughts in that worn out notebook,
or in the library between the shelves of different worlds, and late on Friday evenings
you will sit peacefully in the corner of the pub
by yourself
and you will be okay with that.
Some nights beautiful boys will buy you drinks and ask your name
and you will smile, but be okay with walking home alone
because one day someone will know you
without asking your name
and that's the person that matters.

So wait a few years,
until you can get yourself a small room in a new city where no one knows your name
just yet
but they will
and there will be an older lady
knocking at your door
saying hi and you're very welcome,
and you can have a garden
where only flowers grow, with no thorns, that you plant yourself,
and on sunny mornings in April
you can sit and watch them bloom
a little more each day,
just like you do,
bloom a little more
each day.
And on crisp winter mornings in January you can drink coffee in the cold
on your own front porch
and the town is empty
but full
of other things
like space.
And hope.
And purity.

Wait a few years,
when things are clearer, and you will go on well. Just hold on and wait.

You will be okay.