Sometimes, the blog feels like a gentle prod. Other times, it feels like a four by four swinging at me. Get something done here. Engage. Write. She’s very aggressive. Kind of a nag. Perhaps an update about works in progress will appease whatever gene sequence turned on when I pressed publish the first time? It’s unfortunate that my work exists mostly on an imaginary level … Continue reading Works in progress.
(I have plans to write things relevant and recent. I have notes on my desk and thoughts in my head. I jotted something down in my journal the other day, aided by my decision to toss the diary I’d started but couldn’t love. Happiness is a spiral binding, at least when it comes to me and my notebooks. Eating disorders are hell. Recovery is also … Continue reading i see you.
I have watched this often: it’s my new happy place. I’m gonna spread it on everything. Get inspired. Continue reading When it’s good, it’s good.
My mother once told me that self-inflicted wounds get no sympathy. She was probably trying to inspire a stiff upper lip as I faced unpleasant consequences, but it’s a philosophy I’ve never been able to get behind. Our most grievous wounds are often self-inflicted (unless we’re unfortunate enough to be involved in a natural disaster or alien invasion) and they need all the sympathy in … Continue reading What do you think about sympathy?
From Famine to Feast 