Bits of my brain are busy trying to engage the rest in an existential crisis. I tend to them when I’m stressed. It’s a bit of a quirk. We all have our maladaptive coping mechanisms, though I seem particularly blessed in that regard. I’m old enough to feel my inner Kraken wanting to speak to some kind of manager. My brain is also busy trying … Continue reading There’s No “Right” Life, There’s Just Life – an off-the-cuff joint.
I don’t have writer’s block. I have a life block. Nothing feels quite right with me of late, and I don’t feel particularly present, either. Everything feels a little bit skewed and off-kilter. Part of this is timing – November is not my favourite month. It’s not the dark and dreary cold dampness, though that’s not thrilling either. It’s memories. The body remembers trauma, and … Continue reading Feeling Wordsworth, an off-the-cuff joint.
I used to skip the hyphens while typing, returning to do them after the writing was done, but it actually takes longer that way. I don’t usually start with a digression, but the thought occurred to me while titling and it felt insistent. I’m in a dark head space these days. I’m in a blow-up-my-world head space. I’m full of anger and entitled pain – … Continue reading A dark headspace – an off-the-cuff joint.
From Famine to Feast. 