Posted: November 14, 2017 in Uncategorized

this ceiling holds so many secrets. i was going to blog today and yesterday and the day before, but then, i just didn’t have time to sit and type. so here i am laying in my bed 1:22 a.m and i’m thinking about all the things i have to get done yesterday and all the things i have to do tomorrow, things i should be doing right now instead of laying here staring at the ceiling.

so many goals. so many expectations. the desire to reach them is always there, pushing me, prodding me even when i just want to stop and sit for a while in silence. even now here in the nothingness, i feel them, those subtle aches in my heart deep down in my chest.

i want to be left alone for a while. there’s so much work i want to do, so many projects in the ghostspace that need attention. i want to make the art. i want to write the book. i want to push creativity forward.

and i have been pushing, to the point of exhaustion. my hands ache. my back thinks i’ve betrayed it. my knees and i aren’t on speaking terms.

so i put the art away and i’m laying here thinking about everything i did wrong today, everything i’m likely to f*ck up tomorrow in ways that i can’t properly articulate because i’m not all that eloquent. i’m just mumbling and spilling secrets to the ceiling, which shifts from white to yellow to grey to black.

i share so many secrets with the ceiling. i’m surprised it’s not a darker shade of dirty.

i’m looking for something. i’m looking for something and i don’t know what it is or where to find it.





hung up

Posted: November 7, 2017 in Uncategorized

our bodies collide in the softest of ways and in the moments we spend making our apologies, i feel like i’ve met you before, like i’ve known you for always. maybe i’m misreading you, but the way you linger, i feel like you feel something too.

i don’t mind saying i’d like to make more memories with you in less obvious places. in a soft bite and breath placed gently near the hairline behind your ear. in a kiss near the small dimples just above the curve of your lower back. in a hand sliding up your inviting thigh as you shift your hip outward to me.

i live and die in these small moments of your smile and i wonder if you’d like to join me in aligning your weight against mine.



got nothing on my girl

Posted: November 2, 2017 in Uncategorized

so it turns out i was all upset about those parents mouthing for nothing.  i talked to Pixie about it last night and she said, “i never listen to the parents. i listen to you, and if any players from the other team talk trash i just try harder to stop them from getting to our goal.”

i like her attitude. i had a similar one when i was a player, except it went more along the lines of hitting them hard enough to shake their fillings loose the next time they possessed the ball.

which is what i’d still like to do to those mouthy adults. sure, i should make like Pixie and let it just roll off me like water on a duck’s back, but there’s the principle of the matter.  there’s principalities involved.



try to remember

Posted: November 1, 2017 in Uncategorized

my body language is a constant repeating series of hazard signs and don’tfuckingtouchmes.

but occasionally the mirror is nice to me or the cosmos gives me the nod, and i can hear a little whispering voice barely audible between heartbeats.

“you are not useless.”

“you are strong.”

“your life has a meaning.”

“you are necessary.”

there are galaxies within my rib cage worth exploring. i wish i believed this. i wonder who else i could be.



my daughter’s team played a game tonight, and though they lost, i am extremely proud of how each of the girls played. i thought both teams played well and fought hard for the win. i was genuinely pleased with the game despite the outcome.

however, after the game was over and we’d shaken hands and gone our separate ways, i started hearing reports from various people about the trash talk of the other team. sure, i expect it from players, especially when they’re prissy little b!tches in training and are getting shut down left and right. what gets me, though, what’s got me laying here with my blood boiling is the other team’s parents saying anything negative to my girls from the stands.

you’re adults yelling at nine year olds. show a little class and shut your damned mouths. if you can’t do that and still want to yell at someone, come talk to me. i’d be happy to have a conversation with you.



i’m sick

Posted: October 30, 2017 in Uncategorized

i would have stayed home today, but everything is switching to digital. i miss simply putting ink to paper. they’ve made getting a sub so difficult it was less work to just come in and suffer through it.

i don’t want to be awake and acting like everything is fine today. i don’t want to smile at your jokes, or offer advice, or be your big brother, or your father figure. i want to snarl and snap at anyone that gets too close.

just back the hell up and leave me alone.




there’s thunder running through my veins. and something else, something i can’t quite identify. a touch of exuberance? ecstasy? it’s all mixed with a building tension.

i can’t stop thinking about you. i’ve got a few others, but you’re the only one i want to touch. there’s no logic or reason behind this sudden surge. i mean, it’s only been two and a half years since we began this little dance. there’s no need to rush. perhaps it’s that we are so close to the finish that is bringing out this fierce desire in me. it’s something hungry, primal.

i feel like a small boat in the middle of a raging storm and you are the ocean. you’re going to swallow me whole. my mind is a howling wind dancing around electric skies of silver, black and blue. watching my own hand scratch across the paper is like rising waves.

my handwriting is at once both infinitely familiar and completely alien. i have memories of writing the words, watching the ink flow from pen to the paper, but when i’m rereading older passages i can’t imagine the language flowing from me in such a way.

i’m looking forward to writing that last line. i anticipate the feeling of a crash, of an explosion, a chemical reaction, a hurricane of stars. i’ll inevitably feel a sense of depression in the hours after i finish you. i know it, i’ve felt it so many times before, but it’s so worth the rush i feel as we reach our climax.