Archive for June, 2011


“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.



Good changes.

My body is finally getting back to healthy so my new running schedule is an actuality instead of a distant memory.

New job, I will be at an orientation in the morning, fairly exciting.

I’ll miss my old job but it does save me from a moral dilemma. Which I’m going to go ahead and be vague about.

I hope I never get good at saying good bye. But sometimes I do wish I were possessed of more strength.

Tomorrow I begin again.


Today will be a crucible, and I’m not certain, never certain, what will be forged and what will fall away.

Block(ed) no more

Dear literary gods,

Thanks for getting rid of my writer’s block.


I’ll be back after the muse deserts me.

Dictionary Dreamer

I love the word “transmutation”.

I think because I love the idea that you can change something into something else. Like changing a bad mood into a good one, or a sense of melancholy hopelessness into a joie de vivre that authors impress upon on our characters but seem to seldom find in our personal lives.

I am a seeker. I am a dreamer. I am a writer.

I am all of these things which make me uniquely (not so in a sense and yet very so in others) suited to cataloguing the human condition; this human experience that can be so very ordinary in it’s extraordinariness and vice-versa.

I find that some of my most contented moments are when I am crafting an amalgamate of real emotional discourse and imaginary characters. Characters that, were I not quite so impressed with my ability to put words together, would not exist.

I tell some of my own story every time my fingers hit the keyboard on my laptop; every time some joy or pain bleeds off of the page it is because it has flowed through me into my stories.

My story becomes my stories becomes my (his)tory.


I know that I have been given gifts, tremendous gifts. All of my talents and intelligence are a privilege, a gift. And they are a privilege that I am genuinely honored to have.

I feel that I have a responsibility to use them; there’s a quote, I’m not certain of the exact words so I’ll paraphrase:

“Your talents are your gift from God, what you do with your talents are your gift to God.”


I’ve been thinking. I know, I know; why would I ruin a perfectly good afternoon with that?

Well, I did it anyway and honestly it’s not a new thought I had. In point of fact, it’s not even particularly original.

But what it is is something that I find very much striking for it’s simultaneous complexity and simplicity.

We all know how much I love paradox:

In your life you meet thousands of people and none of them really touch you, then you meet one person, and your life is forever changed.

It’s worth thinking about, no?