writing

  • The Head of the Table

    I’m okay when some people hate me. Matter of fact, hate me if you must. Please. I highly encourage it if that’s the best use of your energy. I don’t spend a whole lot of time trying to change minds that already built a home inside their own bitterness. If someone wakes up in the…

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  • People make choices in their own lives. That is the part everybody wants to dance around like accountability is some kind of haunted mirror they are scared to look into too long. But let’s be honest. You knew from the beginning something was off. That is why you watched me your whole life. Closely. People…

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  • There is a strange silence that happens when there is finally nothing left to bitch at. Not because life became perfect.Not because every problem vanished into some magical sunrise bullshit.But because one ordinary day you realize you are no longer emotionally available for your own suffering. You are not mad.Not sad.Not overly excited either. You…

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  • There is a strange kind of peace that happens when you finally become grateful for your own life. Not performative grateful.Not “post a quote over a sunset” grateful.I mean real grateful. The kind where you wake up and your nervous system is not in a cage match with your mind before your feet hit the…

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  • Some people get angry when my name is spoken. Others get quiet. Others laugh because they finally understand the joke. And then there is me. Sitting somewhere in the middle of the chaos laughing when certain names are spoken because life has a dark sense of humor once you survive enough of it. That is…

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  • The Quiet Exit

    There is something cold about realizing some people already had their last conversation with you and never even knew it. No dramatic goodbye. No slammed doors. No movie scene. Just you standing there in the middle of a regular Tuesday already emotionally packed and halfway gone while they keep talking like tomorrow is guaranteed. That…

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  • What you do with your body every day is a message to your mind about who you are. Not your affirmations. Not your Pinterest board. Not your “new month new me” speech typed out at 2:14 a.m. while eating shredded cheese over the sink like a rat with unresolved trauma. Your body knows the truth…

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  • Borrowed Time

    Love never arrived when I was looking for it. It kicked the door open while I was distracted living. The first time, I was too young to understand what it was. The second time ended more like a horror story about a dog whose life was more important than mine, with the perpetrator playing the…

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  • There is a strange kind of person in this world that thinks being ugly is a strategy. Not ugly in the face. Ugly in the spirit. The kind of ugly that smiles in your face while hoping your life falls apart quietly enough that nobody notices they wished for it. The kind of ugly that…

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  • There is something almost poetic about watching entitled people meet consequences. Not dramatic consequences. Not lightning bolts from the sky. Not some cinematic downfall where violins start playing while they fall to their knees in a grocery store parking lot screaming into the void. No. Real consequences are quieter than that. They arrive slow. They…

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