While trying to organize the events of my life both for writing purposes and therapy, I find myself thinking about a lot of random shit from my youth. You know, those things that stuck and carried on through adulthood. I am so shaped by trauma, its hard to find real organic things in my past
Sometimes I disappear from the online world for a few days, weeks… whatever I need to do to stay sane. I have written some stuff in the past week, I just haven’t published it. I do my Facebook bullshit, but I don’t really interact. Sometimes, even the good things I do for myself (like this
I am the master of self sabotage. If you want to learn how to talk yourself out of absolutely anything… I am a pro. I’ve had a hard time the last few days. I am forcing myself to write this as an exercise in self-discipline, not because I think anyone gives a shit about what
I think Philadelphia is one of those cities that you either love or hate. I tend to fall into the latter category. I do not understand this place at all and I’ve lived here the better part of the past nine years. I will admit some stuff has grown on me, and now that I’ve
I have been saying that I am going to write a book about my life since high school. I’ve started that book more times than I can count, but my squirrel brain and just life always tends to derail the project, or as I am writing my life in some excruciating detail I determine that
You know how you hold off on using the restroom when you start drinking because once you “go” you’ll have to “go” five hundred times an hour for the rest of the night? That’s kind of whats happening with my brain now that I’ve started writing stuff out again. I spent years without being able
America has a fucking drug problem. America has a poverty problem. America has a classicism problem. America has an oppression problem. America has a racism problem. America itself is becoming a fucking problem and I am determined to turn the tide. I swore an oath to defend with my life the Constitution. Not the flag.
Some days, I can’t think of a single thing I want to write about. I woke up this morning with 50 things running through my head. Ready to solve the worlds problems one.blog.at.a.time. Ready to write. Then I sat down here, all revved up and ready to drop some truth on the world… …. ….
As I sit here staring at this blinking cursor wondering what to write to you all, I find myself thinking about all the reasons I love to write, all the reasons why I share what I do, and the many ways the simple act of writing heals me. This is not my first blog and
This is the excerpt for your very first post.