From fingers crossed,
And flowing digits,
Come words of pain,
And words of prestigious,
Thoughts and concepts, Continue reading
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Poem: Slurping
Music Is Pretty Dope, Too
I am a writer, so, obviously, that’s the art form that I like the most, and the one I focus the most on, and know the most about, but, inspired by a random thought and subsequent conversation, let’s talk about something obvious.
Let’s talk about how ridiculous—in a good way—music is. Every culture, on the planet, as far as I know, figured out music. Everyone in the modern world recognizes it. Doesn’t matter what language it’s being sung in, or the volume, or the tone, music is universal. Continue reading
Flash Fiction: When Art Has More Power
The two sat in fluffy chairs on live television.
“Did I ever tell you about the time I was nauseous? It was such a surprise to me. I thought I was getting food poisoning.”
The interviewer smiled at him, but she was nervous underneath the makeup. Her producer told her it would be a good idea to interview one of the Creators, but then they gave her a horror one. Continue reading
The Headbutt Through The Wall Solution
I’d like to think that I’m a fairly smart person who is capable of solving issues with a cool and calm demeanor. I’d like to think that, but, that does not account for when I’m faced with a technology problem. Continue reading
Poem: The Most Tired
On wings of downy feathers,
Of cotton balls in brains,
Of sluggish underthought,
And not a single refrain, Continue reading
Something Cheesy About Love And Stuff
Valentine’s Day fast approaches and this is my first one where I have a girlfriend. Needless to say, it’s exciting. And, while for her privacy, and mine, I’m not going to talk much about my personal relationship—except that it’s going well, and I love her so much—I figured I’d do a little ruminating. Continue reading
Poem: Info
If you have a secret,
That you hold near,
And dear,
You would not like to know—
His name. Continue reading
Obliterated Taste Buds
To lose the weight I did, I had to cook my own food. I had to cook a lot of my own food. Many recipes I relied on so heavily, I started to get sick of them.
And that’s where the madness began. Continue reading
Poem: Chaos
Flickering tree line,
Wind up-ticking the grass,
A dream that consists,
Of nothing but colors,
Smeared,
Bleeding,
Purple and gold and red. Continue reading
A Life Of Sitting Weirdly
I believe the slang term for what I am is duck-footed? I’ve heard bow-legged or flat-footed as well. The simplest way to put it is this: if you look down at your feet, and the toes point forward naturally, congrats, you don’t have what I have. If they curve outward, so that your feet point in two diagonal directions, then you do have what I have. Continue reading
Poem: Sparking World
Pop and whir go the brain extenders,
The little pocket protecting minds,
Full of wire and flow,
Electricity, Continue reading
It Doesn’t Happen All At Once
Never good enough is our achievements, are they? Always someone else has done more than us. Made more money, written more. Better computers. Knows more about this or that. Has more disposable income? Can afford to buy more Magic cards than you? Continue reading
Flash Fiction: Schoolyard Combat
They were pyromancers. And skeletal warriors. And gods. And mud-covered barbarians wielding magical ice swords.
They were two children with sticks. Continue reading
Overthinker
If I were to put a label on two aspects of my personality, it would be these: I’m tenacious, and I’m an overthinker. And it’s the second thing I’m going to focus on here. I know I worry about stuff that other people just do not linger on, not for a second. “Hitler’s Painting” was an article I did specifically to address an instance of that. I have been told, since a very young age, “you’re thinking too much about this.” Continue reading
