Wednesday, July 18, 2018


My hand pressed flat against the glass
palm lines looking like cracks
but no
just head and heart and life

Rain speckled on the other side
I thrust it open wide
and oh
the sparkles scatter down

It's just, I've been around
for long enough to know
that it's all come to nothing
and I should probably just go
We've known our share of sorrows
We've tasted hints of bliss
But nobody likes listening
to prophets reminisce.

Friday, June 29, 2018

Broken World

I've just discovered The Interrupters and am loving their new album, especially this song. It's simple, repetitive, and a bit shout-y. The lyrics advocate radical kindness and revolutionary empathy, and are so naively optimistic you can't tell if they're foolish or wise (or both); you just find yourself wanting to believe in them anyway.

(, basically it's like someone rolled my essence into a 2 minute and 42 second punk song that I will now proceed to play on repeat for the next week.)

Saturday, June 23, 2018

Reminder from Cape Spear

The guns of war have rusted and the dandelions grow.
Junk metal and a small, persistent weed.
Much of the world is strange to me but this I know:
Agents of destruction will one day be laid low
And a restless wind bears forth rebellion’s seed.

Sunday, March 25, 2018

I Love Love, Simon

I saw Love Simon for the first time on my birthday (the Saturday of its opening weekend).  Just got out of my third time seeing it tonight. (Spoilers ahead, so be warned.) The theatre was packed; even the front row was full, which made my heart happy because I want this movie to make lots of money so they'll make more like it. As things got started I could tell from many of the reactions that most people were seeing it for the first time. Yay! Love that kind of crowd. We settled in to enjoy.
During Simon’s talk with his mom later in the film ( ❤️) the screen started getting a bit dark and flickery but it self-corrected after a while so I didn’t worry too much. I was disappointed as it’s a beautiful moment in the film and I hoped it hadn’t detracted from people hearing what she was saying, because seriously… SO important. But I didn’t think much more of it at the time.
Anyway, we’re watching and Simon makes his romantic gesture Creek Secrets post, and we see the production of Cabaret, and his friends make up with him and they go to the carnival together, and it starts to get dim again and I’m thinking Oh no. But it’s still playing. He boards the Ferris Wheel. Ride after ride and no one shows. Last call ( 💔). Martin steps up… AND THE SCREEN GOES BLACK.
Every single person in the theatre screamed. Not exaggerating. One long horrified wail: Nooooooooo.
Then we’re holding our breaths because the audio is still working. It’s like the slo-mo of a clock in the movies where every tick of the second hand reverberates like a door slam. Will the picture come back? Does anyone dare leave their seat to report it? I can feel all these people in the dark around me praying to the movie gods: pleasepleasepleassssseeeee….
And - glory, hallelujah! - the image came back. Dim, and a bit wobbly, but just in time to see Blue bound up and join Simon on the Ferris Wheel. Everyone cheered. The girl next to me spilled the rest of her tub of popcorn on the floor and didn’t even care.
The picture held for the rest of the movie and even brightened to normal for the kiss, as if trying to make up for past sins. When the lights came up everyone was smiling, but with the wild-eyed relief of people whose plane had just landed safely after life-flashing-before-your-eyes type turbulence. We had survived a collective experience, y'allBut Simon got his man and we actually got to see it, so in the end all was right with the world.
(Still… here’s hoping viewing #4 isn’t such a nail biter!)

Thursday, March 15, 2018


It's raining outside, and so gloomy.

I'm supposed to read three articles before class tomorrow and write engagement papers about two of them.

I'm going to see my friend Yohei perform in Rent in about 2.5 hours.

I'm dieting, which means it's hard to think about anything but what I'll be eating next. Dinner is the current upcoming meal. I have to keep it in the 500 calorie range. I'm trying to lose 68 pounds before Vanessa's wedding in August.

I'm struggling with the realization that I'm a failure.

I've told Katrina I can live with her when I come back but I don't think I can. My monthly expenses will come to $1,000 even before rent because of my stupid debt.

I'm struggling with the fact that easily 80% of that debt was accrued just in coming up here to get a degree I don't want in a subject I don't understand in a place I don't like very much.

I'm also realizing that if I don't really kill myself to get stuff done between April and August that I won't even actually get the degree.

I'm screwed in a lot of ways, and the rain is falling outside, and the sinus pressure headache I've been fending off with pseudoephedrine for a week is still there lurking, waiting to strike again.

It's my birthday in 29.5 hours, and I'm lonely and I miss my family and friends.

So, you know. Those are just some of the things I might tweet today on this twitter-feed-for-one. Except they're too depressing. Nobody wants to read what you actually think.


Thursday, March 8, 2018

Twitter for One (Without the Character Limit)

I'm trying this thing where anything I'd be tempted to post on Twitter I post here instead.

Today's entry:

When you have a migraine and a nosebleed at the same time, it feels like your brain's exploding and seeping out onto your chin.


Wednesday, March 7, 2018

Green With Envy, and Really, It's a Seasonal Color, So I Don't Know Why You're Judging Me Like That

I'm so bored here.

I don't want to do the things I'm supposed to do (i.e. read articles and books on boring, confusing subjects for class or transcribe for my grad assistantship or write my thesis).

I don't really want to go out and do things, with the exception of seeing movies (up here, it's all "heritage this" and "handmade or homegrown that," and a bunch of bands playing, which I might enjoy except there are all these unwritten rules that make me feel like a dumb outsider every time I try to go to one of these things).

I don't really want to get up and go out at all. Like, it's cold and drab outside, and where would I walk? To campus? Downtown, where there are shops for me to spend money I shouldn't be spending and restaurants for me to eat food I shouldn't be eating (I'm on the diet/exercise regime again, we'll see how long it lasts). I miss having a job, like a real job where I make an almost-living wage in exchange for the things that occupy my time. I was thinking about starting on some adventure boxes, because that was a really fun project over Christmas and I'd like to possibly expand it into a business opportunity, but I don't want to accrue any extra stuff up here because I'm going to have to figure out a way to get all my stuff home in about half a dozen suitcases between now and August, and I'm only returning home once before The Final Return. (Dramatic capitalization to emphasize feelings of dread.)

To be fair, most people I know all have obvious issues too. They have families and lives and responsibilities, but they're open about the fact that they don't have their shit together. Some days are hard. I appreciate that.

Then there's the girl I grew up with at church who was always so awkward and ended up marrying this military guy who seemed so controlling at the time that we all felt kind of bad for her. But she's travelled the world with him, going to all these cool places. She doesn't have my money problems or my health issues or seemingly any mental health problems at all. She has a spouse who loves her, friends who care about her, and in the last several years she's developed a passion for art and been going to conventions and selling her art online and making this successful side business with this creative passion of hers. And now, today, she's gone on Facebook looking for advice for people about whether she should self-publish her illustrated YA novel or try to ship it around to publishers. And the thing is, she's good. She'll find an agent and get the thing published, I know she will. And it's just like - gah. The envy in my heart right now. Like, I could burst into tears. Because she's had this pretty, nice, easy life, right? At least that's what it looks like from the outside. Like she has everything. And now she's going to be successful at the one thing I care about but have never been able to do properly. She's going to have this, and I'm just a failure.

Because of course that's the thing I should be doing with my time. Writing. But the walls inside my own mind seem to make even that impossible these days.

Maybe someday I'll be able to say this was all just me building up experiences I could use in my storytelling. Like, how could I write about how pathetic Sid's shut-in lifestyle is unless I experienced it myself? How could I write about Em's experiences with not having a home anywhere unless I knew that myself? How could I write about the Doorkeeper trapped in the House, unless I knew a bit of that eternal cabin fever myself?

But the thing about writers is our trade is in lies. Even failed writers like me are still good at making up deceptions. And the biggest deception I'm spinning is that somehow all of this will be worth it, that I'm any good at anything, that I shouldn't just give up and never try again.


Maybe I should just call it quits, go back home to my family, and try to clean up all my messes.

Or maybe I should just take a walk to clear my head.