rambling 11/1/21

I’ve hidden a lot of the things I wrote in August. I’d share them again if you’d ask. Perhaps it was a turning point in Silence during those countless hours watching ripples. Or was it the mass unhinging of others’ minds that caused my prolific pen? I remember the...

“home”

I have never felt at home. Not where I live nor in any of the places I travel to. And the purpose behind traveling is not to find home. The reason I do it is to see everything. To experience this world in its fullest. To know why this place is not...

small things

Every time I talk about her I think “this might be the last time I ever talk about her” and a sense of foreboding overcomes me. It’s the same kind of excited tension you feel when you consider rope or broken glass. That fleeting, flickering “what if” of never agains....

to a year of warmth

I have plenty of journal entries, notes on dreams, bad poems, love letters, and short stories that I have written over the years. Many of these works involve temperature, namely suffering in the cold and desiring heat. Warmth was always the ideal, the out of reach...

culmination of an idea

I resent the thought that family is everything. That’s not to say I don’t love my family. I have a truly wonderful family. However to believe that one’s family is everything seems at best blissfully ignorant, and at worst short sighted and discriminatory. To love your...