Its difficult knowing that what things are for one person can be completely different for the other. Feelings can meet somewhere in the middle along a road of mutual understanding, but at which depth do they both drown in the thing? The hardest part for her wasn’t knowing that he didn’t want her the way …
we didn’t have money growing up. I’m talking ketchup packets and saltines for dinner poor. Somehow, still not sure how to this day, we always went to see movies. One of my earliest memories is curling up on the floor of the theater watching Amadeus. I must’ve been 4 or 5? Timing tells me 5. …
Trying new things is harder than it was a decade ago when I was a more stupid and reckless version of myself. This past few months had been full of trying new things and it has opened up new friendships, travel, personal growth and personal reevaluation. It’s also kicked the big effing block that was …
For those just catching up, it’s almost November. And this is me gearing up for the challenge. I’m not “suddenly” posting again hoping to get a resurgence of “how do ya” from the old guard and I’m certainly not peddling anything. Just using a platform that’s easily accessible to do the thing.
Quiet comes at a price. In this case it was the price of a tank of gas, a bag of Funyuns and a diet Pepsi. She didn’t mean to grab diet, or Pepsi for that matter, so the bottle sat untouched in the cup holder. The house sat lonely; the owners gone for weeks already …
Accidently remembering to forget the thing I forgot I remembered in the first place.
Stealing all these moments and churning out fiction.
Carving your initials in the trunk of a dead tree. Making a place in my mind for you to love me. Carefully carrying away the thoughts of you before the new moon brings a new tide of feeling. Making room for you,impossible, since the room is full and no one has asked to let space …
He stood in the doorway. Just leaning. Not all in but enough so that the wind picked up his scent and carried it across the room to where she sat cross legged on the bed. She hadnt noticed him before. She did now. Not many things happened that day. But the lingering scent of sex …
How do you put a life into context? What made it well lived? Who gets to decide that at the end, when it’s done? He touched my hand in the parking lot; gently twining his fingers with mine. I was undone in that moment. Unable to remember a time when I hadn’t wanted that hand …
Bountiful Words, Beautiful World 