Archive for June, 2011


I have discovered that I am at my best amidst the maelstrom; my home is the eye of the storm. The raging fury of swirling emotion is almost comforting in its intimacy, its inherent familiarity.

It allows me to be, me: creative, thoughtful, inventive…it is my unique blend of insane that lets my mind cycle through beings that are only real to me; until I loose them upon the world through my fingertips.

I have never been perfectly content and comfortable in my own skin until this very moment; something clicked and I am finally a peace with the past, the path and the uncertain future.

Its a glorious day to be alive.


S. Pentathol

I sometimes question my direction.

The people closest to me, those people that share my life, often tell me that I am much too hard on myself.

Conversely, I believe, that I am nowhere near hard enough on myself.

These last days I have found myself somewhat inexplicably sad; I had hoped that I would be past feeling sad over things that I cannot change by now.

Apparently I am still far too open, easy even. I almost wish I were still possessed of the suspicion that characterized my early adulthood; it made life much safer to inhabit.

Well from an emotional standpoint anyway. I tempted oblivion many times, and looking back I am very surprised that I am here to look back with surprise.

I am not completely hopeless, let me clarify: I am still thankful for many things in my life. It just seems as though the things that matter most to me will always be those that require baptism by fire.

I am sad to say that I am quite accustomed to being burned.

And obviously I am, as always, quite impressed by my facility with language.

Some things never change. Some things, do.

In my darkest moments, I believe that language will be my only legacy; all that will remain of the person I was, the passion that consumed me, the great love and greater sorrow that would come to define this mortal shell: words, these included.

I hope that more than that will be my speaker. I fear that it will be my Ender’s Game that speaks for me.

That, I think, is the moral of this particular story.

Melon Collie


Over something that does not exist; maybe never did.

Maybe never except in my soul, my heart, my mind: blind.

In those brief moments i could fly.


*this post was in my upload cue, I’m not certain when I wrote it, but it’s probably at least a couple of weeks old*

Odd, this day was odd.

I’m sure I could regale you with a play-by-play of each and every annoying event or irritating instance from the last sixteen hours or so of my life.

But I’d rather ruminate on the emotional content of the roller coaster I rode all day.

Very strange, I feel like I ran through just about every emotion that you can feel as a human today. And that doesn’t even really begin to cover it. There were the oddest combinations of emotions.

I haven’t felt this insane since I was in my teens. I can safely say that I am moderately unamused with it. I really don’t even know what to say about it, except that I’d really like to never do that again.

I think that I may need to disappear for a while.


I have deleted so many posts over the last few days.

I’m uncertain how to say exactly what I want to say it seems.

Ah well at least the novel is coming along nicely and my new job, aside from the loss of some of my left nipple is also going well.

I’m still running. I sometimes wonder if I’m still running from myself, but I feel like that is an old fear an one that is unfounded for the most part.

Anyway I’m sure I’ll figure it out.

I always do.


So, today is my birthday.

I woke up with an insanely sore neck, apparently I did not sleep on it at all properly. Pretty sweet for my first day on the new job. And here I was excited about the symbolism in the symmetry of starting a new job on the same day as another year of life.

Now I may have to get excited about the symbolism in the egregious neck pain on my first day/birth day.

In other news I think I finally figured out the best way to end my novel.


I need espresso. Lots and lots of espresso.

Among other things.

Life has felt a little strange lately. But I guess that I’ve made peace with that.


“I wonder why, I’ve never wondered why, the easiest things are so hard.”

Sometimes I believe that complexities are what I will always find.

I think that growing up is simply accepting the fact that you don’t always get to do what you want, but that you always have to do what you must.

I have no worries. I believe that I can handle anything thrown my direction. And it’s an easy thing to say when you think about it: would you trust anyone but yourself to handle your life?

I wouldn’t either.