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Life is Hard. So What? Write.

Life is fucking hard. It’ll eat you up like a rabid dog chewing at your exposed ankle. Make a mistake or a wrong choice or find out cancer is riddling your bones and things get really difficult, real quick. God, or whatever fuckery created us, didn’t create a smooth path forward (well, apparently that god did and Eve decided to cast us into sin—let’s not talk about how that vilifies women, k?). If you make it any length in this life, you’re going to be bloody and beaten and broken.

Americans seem to make this even harder. Our independence just might be our downfall too. We sure like to blame other people for their problems or predicaments in this life. Social programs and a crumbling health care system set us up to fail harder if we fall on difficult times. But, we don’t worry about those people because that will never be us. Read More

A Wild Heart Yet Practical Mind

The tattoo I had inked in Prague is just about healed. The memories grow fainter each day. The habits and monotony of pre-Europe continue to fall back into the slots they have claimed in my life. The joyous bits—the bits I wanted to pull from… Read More

You Need to Write, the App

(Hop on over to the app, if you like: You Need to Write). So, I built something yesterday. Something digital; it’s not like I can hand you a spice rack and exclaim, “Look what I have built! Look at those butt joints with squeeze-out and… Read More

Permission Into the Unknown

I’m currently reading A Field Guide to Getting Lost by Rebecca Solnit. I started it the night before we left Prague, while I lay in bed, windows open, listening to the sounds of the city fall asleep, a warm glow of whiskey sours emanating out… Read More