Life

Rot & Blather

I have tried, and failed, to break up with this city. Any city. Particularly this one. Yet lately it feels like it might be the only tendrils holding me together. The noise. The clutter. The sadness.

And that fucking sky...

Rot & Blather

Bravery it is

The foreign feeling of spending the holidays without some (or all) of the loved ones we normally surround ourselves with, can come and sit on your shoulders like a lead jacket. Does it make it any easier to know that most humans on Earth also had to suspend their patterns and forgo the lovely feeling of seeing their family?

Bravery it is

Jawbone Ache

That fear and frustration that used to catch my elbows at the bend lives inside of my jaw now. I am helpless to the vice that feels like it is trying to pry my teeth from their gummy homes one by one, starting from the back.

Jawbone Ache

A Place For You

Perhaps there’s a problem with being THAT productive when the lights are on, because it has felt so easy to be numb and motionless when they go off. If I had more to do, maybe I’d have difficulty allowing myself to get dizzy with dark and velvet thoughts.  

A Place For You

Dread Pirate

My stance on marriage hasn't changed much over the years, but has grown clearer as time moves on. It’s not something that has ever appealed to me. And I don’t intend to discourage those that believe in the structure of it. But I would love to articulate how I feel without alienating those readers, so I’m going to give it a shot.

Dread Pirate

I am not your friend. I'm not your lover. I'm not your family.

Trying to make sense of the million little pieces my heart has been broken into because of your grotesque actions. My heart is broken, not for you and our time together. But for Nicole, and what I can only assume is a laundry list of silence names you've left behind. 

I am not your friend. I'm not your lover. I'm not your family.

A guide to loneliness

I adore silence. Nature. The clacking of my keyboard. The spinning of my pen in between my fingers. Not speaking, or attempting to listen and be a part of another's conversation. Just me and my mind--which sometimes backfires--conjuring or conversing within itself.

A guide to loneliness

Bring Me to Delilah

There's something about the roar in a city that slowly drives you insane. There's a reason why people take vacations, or resort back to the "good ol' days" before houses, and pitch tents. It's nice to be away from it all.

Bring Me to Delilah

Standing Still

I've begun the process of rounding out my third decade on this planet. And nothing I have done seems to have cemented me as a successful adult, or dependable human. It's a frightening conclusion for one's mind to achieve.

Standing Still

The Unsaid

People walk by. The kind of people I pray don't approach me with their version of “tantalizing conversation”. The only ambient noise being the briskly paced traffic that comes and goes like waves on the beach, however unlike the tired ocean they grow further apart as time passes.

Phenomenolapology

When approached by a stranger, a reader, a friend, or loved one about my addiction to phenomenology, I lack the proper words to reach that point where one person understands the other. At an alarmingly sad average.

Phenomenolapology

How to Publish Nightmares

But here I sit, staring at three --  ... no... four now --  drafts just waiting to be published. And I am struck by a fear I haven't felt in a long time. That this isn't a safe place for me anymore. What could have caused it? Where did I go wrong? Fuck...

How to Publish Nightmares

How my need to be creative boils.

I am standing in the bathroom at work. My head is dizzy. My knees weak. I’m not sure why but there is no breath in my lungs. There’s a tick in the back of my mind that forces me to continue plodding along the current path I’m on, hoping — no, praying — that something comes along to free me from this cage I’ve gone and locked my own-damned-self in. 

How my need to be creative boils.

Welcome to the Club

I've spent all day waiting for the moment that I can get this out of me and it's turning into a waterboarding session. I can't seem to find my footing. No matter how many times I attempt to start a new thought. A million screams to try and decipher. One peeks through.

It's Suppertime Jack!

Soon ... we all feel it. It is inevitable that we all come to the impasse in life which teaches us that we're not on this rock for an infinite amount of time. Soon ... we all feel it. It is inevitable that we all come to the impasse in life which teaches us that we're not on this rock for an infinite amount of time. 

It's Suppertime Jack!