To those that see a painting in twilight skies.
To those who pour out their heart because they need someone to understand.
To those that push themselves harder—harder—harder, until they find a new way.
To those that don’t sleep, don’t eat, sacrifice their bodies for the sake of something grand.
To those that explain, again and again, rather than fight.
To those that choose others above themselves.
To those that love. Continue reading
As I sit here, I think of them.
“And that is the agony,” Brandon Scott muttered and ran his hands through his hair. His eyes were tired, one more than the other, and his head was just a little off. “Sometimes I wonder what happens to them—and if it’s any different from what will happen to me.” Continue reading
Someone once told me that horror writing, good horror writing, often involves writing about what personally scares oneself.
I don’t apply this rule very much.
Partially because I don’t enjoy scaring myself—and partially because my fears are not all that interesting. They are mundane, mostly.
But hey, it’s almost Halloween, let’s have some fun.
I hate/fear/cower from the following. Continue reading
Oh, huh, would you look at that: I wrote a book.
HOLY SHIT, I WROTE A BOOK!?
I am shaking while writing this. This may be too far, but, I almost feel like it’s my responsibility to talk about it. Art is supposed to build up people, or at least make them see something that might change them inside—and in the modern world, it is almost selfish to be a creator and not share my…issues.
Told by many this is not a good idea: fuck it.
Oh God, fuck it.
I’m 22 and I’ve never had a girlfriend. Continue reading
Wow, has it really been three years? Damn…that’s a lot of books—a lot of reading and a lot of stories. And, as promised, here is the newest of my New Year’s Book Cheers. My newest opinions on three books. Give any of these stories a try; I certainly liked them. Continue reading
(Originally Posted April 19th, 2017.)
I hate platitudes, don’t you? I feel like they bar the ability for someone to communicate actual helpful words. They are rote and glib and sound good as a soundbite, but often already occurred to the asker of help, so are thus useless.
There seems to be an almost universal box of platitudes for every occasion. Continue reading
(Originally Posted November 9th, 2016.)
*Brandon peeks up his head from a hiding hole. *
Is it over?
Did the world end yet?
No? Continue reading
(Originally Posted August 2nd, 2017.)
Did you know that Hitler, yes, that Hitler—history’s greatest monster—was a painter? That he was a creator of art?
It’s a bit of a head fuck.
But, no matter how odd to consider, this fact works as a good starting place for a discussion about something that has been bothering me for a long time. Also, I’m sorry to say, if you are reading this think piece and expecting an answer at the end then you are going to be disappointed. Continue reading
(Originally posted December 2nd, 2017.)
Are you busy?
Uh no. Hey
Hi! How are you?
Wht happened? Continue reading
(Originally Posted February 11th, 2015.)
This movie is:
and perhaps most of all: incredibly British. Continue reading
(Originally posted August 13th, 2016.)
The note said,
It talked about a girl I could not know.
Born a long, long, long time ago. Continue reading
(Originally posted October 10th, 2015.)
This is all in my head right?
Oh yes, indeed it is. But then again, isn’t everything?
Treat” Continue reading
(Originally Posted February 27th, 2016.)
Oh yeah, this is going to be weird. Strap in folks.
I call it:
Let’s Picture A Room
Let’s paint a picture shall we? Let’s go with a living room. It’s a tad hazy at first, though. Since I didn’t give you any specifics. Or you just subbed in a living room like the one you have, or what a friend has. But you can see a living room now. You should see it clearly. Continue reading
(Originally Posted Septemeber 13th, 2017.)
I don’t know of many creatives without some odd habits. And, with me, the most prominent and noticeable ones are my night owl tendencies and my relationship with jackets. I’ve talked about the night and my place in it before, but I’ve barely, if at all, discussed my jacket fixation, and I think it’s about time I fix that oversight. Because I goddamn love jackets. If I could comfortably sleep in a jacket I would—and don’t think I haven’t tried. Continue reading