A meditation on anger.

But I also know that I’m trying. That in the last few years, when I’ve felt angry, I haven’t rushed to bury it. That I’ve sat with it. That I’ve let it teach me, that I’ve let it make me furious enough to choose myself. And maybe I’ll always be the kind of person that quietly rages at big unflinching things—at gods who don’t see me and men who aren’t scared of me. But maybe the point the point is to stop raging at myself. Continue reading A meditation on anger.

Because I’m still powerful even when I don’t feel like it. 

And because of that I think if I have to choose one thing that people will see and love, I’ll pick my writing because I think I do that well and my whole life, I’ve tried to be really easy to love; to make it worthwhile. Like, I don’t person well at the moment, so here, take my writing, love it for me. Continue reading Because I’m still powerful even when I don’t feel like it. 

Some things I know for sure:

So there’s that—harrowing grief that stretches and swallows me whole. I feel really small in the face of it and I’m running out of emotional real estate to house it. But there’s also progress. Sometimes I think of a pun and it makes me laugh so hard, my teeth hurt. Sometimes I catch myself talking to myself, and it feels like I’m high-fiving myself. Everyday I catch glimpses of myself and it reminds me that I’m here; that I am present; that I am getting back to myself. Continue reading Some things I know for sure:

2017

Hey guys. I know it’s been a while. I’ve been meaning to write a sequel to my previous post but as you can see, I didn’t get around to it. I got such overwhelming positive feedback from you guys, it felt like anything after that wouldn’t be good enough. I just stopped trying at some point. But I promise, even if it kills me, I … Continue reading 2017

On change.

The year was two thousand and fifteen. Young, ignorant me was excited about the new year. I truly believed it was going to be my best year yet. I really did. It makes me laugh(and sometimes cry) to think about now naively optimistic I was. I guess I just needed the hopeful illusion. Two Thousand and Fourteen had been an awful year. As it turned … Continue reading On change.