a shadow tilts its head at me
it’s an awful feeling to know that you can write, but you don’t. to know that people have cried over your writing, and laughed, and felt understood for maybe the first time. to know that there’s people out there who would smile to see a blog post from the flood appearing in their inbox. it’s… Continue reading it’s an awful feeling
the rabbit’s little feet slowly slide backwards on the wood floor as she peers up at the fireplace. she’s exploring every crevice of the living room for the millionth time, but the living room is eternally interesting to this black, cup-sized ball of fur with brown eyes. she’s in the middle of a snow tube… Continue reading black and white and black: a sketch
i pulled a 5-year-old human outside into the dark onto the back porch. i had a feeling there would be stars, and there were. he giggled for a minute as i dragged a deck chair from beneath a tree and swept the dead leaves from it. "alright, let's lay down and look at the stars."… Continue reading his eyes: a sketch
i pose a question: have you ever stared into the flames of a campfire for an hour and suddenly are struck with the thought that your inner world is often much more real than the physical outer world? i provide an answer: i had a dream that a tidal wave washed away the boardwalk and… Continue reading spray-paint craters
it doesn't feel like a school day as you stumble through the hallways, trying to find your classroom, even though you're smiling wider than you have in days; into strange, small, slightly-scared faces. they light up for a split second when they see your smile, as if the sun has peeped through the clouds and… Continue reading the last first day
“under clothes, under skin,underneath we’re all the same,for when you remove the tricky tricks,only skeleton bones remain."tyler joseph guitar and flute combined with a clear, wistful irish voice ringing out of computer speakers; tall tubes of paint huddled together on my desk; the feeling of being the only one awake in the house; thus the… Continue reading only skeleton bones remain
weez (of caught daydreaming) wanted to write something with me, and you can only imagine how excited i was when she chose "car radio" by twenty one pilots as our prompt. the only twenty one pilots song she knew. (for now, at least;) and she came up with the coolest idea - writing from the… Continue reading and now he just sits in silence
My body is no longer firm and terrestrial; it is resolved into its constituent atoms, subtilized, volatilized. Sublimed into imponderable vapor, I mingle and am lost in the endless sources of those vast globular volumes of vaporous mists, which roll upon their flaming orbits through infinite space.Journey to the Center of the Earth i was… Continue reading hurricane: a sketch
life is continually and inexorably chronological, but there’s no rule against writing it backwards. especially when life is a bit backwards right now, and my shirt is inside out. so instead of a dawn, I’ll begin with a sunset. squinting eyes and sweaty foreheads as a sister of 9 years tramps besides me west down… Continue reading backwards
substance. something that is lost between 2 half-written songs and 3 post drafts and 4 works-in-progress and 5 assignments all due within 3 days. when you're an all-or-nothing person, it hurts to have so many pieces of you in so many different places. a thin spread of mediocrity over 16 different projects sits uneasily in… Continue reading bits and pieces
the flood. 