Back when I first introduced this site, I told you that I had all kinds of lofty ambitions. Flash fiction, I promised! Poetry! . . . “I don’t know”! Oh yeah, and stick figure collections. Rough Night. (Full album.) The night Brendan and I met, I told some anecdote and he made a casual aside [...]
Last night, after turning off the lights to go to sleep, I thought to myself “I will die some day.” When I was a kid, I thought about this a lot — mostly during car rides, for whatever reason. I’d sit in the back seat, my sister dozing in a car seat next to me, [...]
For much of my life, I have loved to lie on my bed and just stare at my freaking beautiful, glorious bookshelf. Occasionally I’ll think about what it’d be like to come home with myself on a date for the first time — the joy it would be to roll over in the morning, to [...]
This is perhaps the cruelest security question I have ever set for myself. The question, in being asked, manifests its correct answer. Favorite teacher? Favorite pet? Mother’s maiden name? No other query has proven to be as steadfast in its ability to simultaneously log me into my bank account and ruin my day.
Every now and then I go through a phase where I have absolutely no desire to write, whatsoever. It generally means that I’m either being dishonest to myself about something, or I just haven’t felt real sunlight on my skin in too many days (or is it weeks, or is it months).