emotional pavement – memories of times I’ve been lucky

I hate writing something and feeling like there was just a vacuum that sucked out all of the eloquence, coherency, and poignancy I was hoping for, but it is an unfortunate result of writing that we sometimes all encounter. Oh well.. here we go: Being emotionally flattened is an interesting thing. From what I hear,… Continue reading emotional pavement – memories of times I’ve been lucky

an open tunnel

To me, love is just an open tunnel. That tunnel rarely seems to bring anything but pain. I loved a girl for a few years. First, we were barely more than acquaintances through a mutual friend. There was never a day that I was aware of her existence that I didn’t like her. Then we… Continue reading an open tunnel

simple metaphors

It was getting cold again, after a perfect day the prior, and I was trying to register the significance of the day and my current point in life, but all I could really notice was the grey and an anomaly; a ray of sunshine poking out. Somewhere on the landscape ahead, the sun was providing color, warmth, energy, and life. Then another hole, and another hole; several solar punctures radiating light before me, and at the moment I knew; I was looking at my own life.

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Narrate

I’ve arrived at what I sense has the risk to be an unpopular decision, but popularity is of concern to politicians and high schoolers. I didn’t care about popularity in high school, and I’m disillusioned with politics, so it looks like greater sense won’t be stopping me. I want to narrate my life. Not every… Continue reading Narrate

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getting personal

I was in the car. I was driving the car. There were 4 of us in there. We were driving around the city of Fairview, looking for a graveyard. We were going to take pictures, maybe make memories of each other as ghosts. It was in the summer, of course, which is the appropriate time… Continue reading getting personal

Indie Size IV

Lately, I end each day feeling mentally accomplished. In my current state of things, my mind just gnaws and gnaws on things in an effort to break them down into something I can swallow, digest, and, uh, get them beyond my system. Thus is the cycle. The end of the night hits, I’ve thought non-stop… Continue reading Indie Size IV

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