So, I don’t know what happened to me last night around 10pm, and I doubt I’ll ever capture the mental state I was in, but I wrote.

Like, over 1000 words of fiction. I’m shocked.

Those of you who have been following my blog know that lately I have been stuck in a muddy state of depressive writer’s block.

But something happened last night. One moment I was on my Mac, lollygagging, and almost hypnotically I found myself rattling away on Microsoft Word, headphones locked in.

What resulted was a fun little short story, and its still a little rough, but here’s a short excerpt of the piece, reluctantly titled “Conversations”:

“‘Judy, I’d like to thank you for being so cordial with me this evening. I recently moved to the city, and haven’t had much in the way of conversation.’

‘Really?’ She leaned forward, closer. ‘Where from?’

‘New England.’

‘What brought on the move?’

‘A broken relationship. I’ve been collecting the pieces ever since.’

Judy’s eyebrows curved upward and her head tilted to the side.

Pity, humanity’s most generous feeling.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said silently. Joshua took another sip.

“Quite alright. It went quick. The relationship taught me many things, so I am grateful.”

‘Like what?’

‘Well, simply, and if you’ll forgive my vulgarity, I discovered that watching a woman put her panties on is proof of the existence of God. Watching her take them off is proof that miracles do indeed happen. And watching her pack them away in a fit of rage is as close to helplessness as one can get.'”

-Would love to hear some feedback!

US of A.

I could go on a rant here about how disgustingly racist and ignorant this country is, but I won’t. I’m working by the law of averages here, and the average American’s attention span is, well, pretty shitty. So I’ll keep it sweet.

The fact that the majority of people still live by the media is astounding. The fact that they are fabricating stories out of thin air to try an justify the outright genocide of Black people just shows how doomed this country (and our world, lets not forget Haiti) is. 

I feel sorry for our children and our grandchildren for having to pick up the pieces of this shitty society we are leaving them.


It seems like every other post I write on this blog is another episode of my complaining and whining about my current career situation.

Its been roughly two years since I set out on the hunt for a full-time writing/editorial position.

The fruits of my toil have been nonexistant.

Whether its due to my lack of real-time experience (well, how can you get experience if you don’t get an opportunity?) or maybe I’m not as talented as I think I am, or a combination of both, the point is, I currently find myself lost at sea, fighting to keep myself afloat as my legs start to cramp and my breath shortens.

I feel like I’ve tried everything (if you knew me personally, you’d know that wasn’t an overstatement). And that’s what’s most depressing of all: when you feel you’ve done everything you can, the same way you’ve been hearing over and over that if you work hard everything you want will come true, and its still not enough.

I hate complaining, I really do. I just feel like if I vent more, maybe some clarity will be provided, maybe I’ll know which direction to go, where to refresh. How to break through this wall that has otherwise stagnated my progress.

Is it wrong of me to expect so much? To want to work and show what I can do in a medium to be proud of? Why is it that there are thousands of people in the same exact situation I’m currently drowning in?

What the fuck do we do?

Shadows & Dust.

I love all those inspirational quotes that are everywhere.

You’ve seen em. The jist of them all is:

“Go after your dream, no matter how unattainable others think it is.”

And I realized something the other day. The truth is, a quote like this and others like it, yield so much tragedy.

How can you follow your dream if you can’t get an opportunity to chase it? What if you keep failing? What if your dream requires money, and you have none?

What if your dream really is unattainable?

Yes, I’ve been feeling pessimistic lately.

The point is, its great when these quotes come to fruition, but man is it horrible when they just turn out to be shadows and dust.

But I don’t resent them. Whenever words can move and inspire, they’re doing more good than harm in my book. 

Unfortunately, no amount of words have been of much help to me lately. But when they’re all you have, you gotta keep going.


Knowing your limits can be the difference between greatness and making a complete full out of yourself.

The idea of motivation is such a paradox these days. You’re supposed to push past your pain threshold, past your comfort zone, and still show a sense of composure and a willingless to continue, even though you’re hanging on by a thread.

A thread that, no matter how much your heart wants to continue and your brain wants to carry on, will always break.

This is all random, I know. The point is, no one is invincible. I feel like knowing your limits is actually a powerful form of knowledge, because once you can pinpoint your exact breaking point, you can begin to strategize how to banish it. You can begin to strengthen that thread, to move as close to unbreakable as you can.

I see so many personal trainers in the gym literally putting their clients one rep away from the emergency room. That’s not “pushing past your limits”, that’s just stupid.

I guess it all goes back to our society’s need to get everything NOWNOWNOW.

Patience died a long time ago.