self-reflection
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I closed my eyes because someone told me the answers were inside. I thought that was bullshit. Most advice given to people who don’t know what to do with their lives eventually involves breathing. Breathe deeply. Be present. Clear your mind. As if the mind has ever agreed to be cleared simply because someone asked…
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There was a woman living in my house who looked exactly like me. I noticed her before I saw her. That is how these things usually begin. Not with apparitions standing at the foot of the bed or doors slamming themselves in the middle of the night. Nothing so theatrical. It began with a coffee…
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There is stone that reads throw me sitting on a random shelf. Nobody remembers who put it there. That is the strange part. It isn’t decorative. It isn’t polished enough to belong beside the books, candles, and little porcelain angels collecting dust beneath the stained-glass window. It is an ordinary gray stone. Heavy. Cold. Imperfect.…
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Everyday starts off like an ordinary day until it isnt. That’s probably how most things happen. Nobody wakes up Tuesday morning expecting Tuesday to become the reason they start looking at plane tickets by lunch. The coffee tastes the same. The computer turns on. The same people need the same things they needed yesterday, except…
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There is a strange kind of silence that only writers hear. It doesn’t sound like silence at all. It sounds like an empty room where people were laughing five minutes ago. I never thought I would run out of things to say. Writers joke about writer’s block the way fishermen joke about rain. It exists.…
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There are moments when the universe does not knock politely. It arrives with a clipboard. No lightning. No trumpet. No dramatic warning written across the clouds. Just the unmistakable feeling that something old has begun moving again. It happened exactly the way it was supposed to. Saturn showed up, simply in reverse. No panic. No…
