I am the part of me I can’t accept. I think of dark things. I am twenty-five years old. I live behind closed doors, afraid of who might come to call, afraid that I will have to speak. Sometimes when I go outside. I cross the road so I don’t
Well there’s a way… and there’s a will. I just have to make these two possibilities collide. I just spent some time reading about the experiences of self-published e-book authors, and there doesn’t look much of a down-side to it. Fortunately between me and my wife we have all the
I’m late with this entry because I was and am tired. I fell asleep and woke up past midnight, thanks to one of the dogs needing to go outside. Like last night, I feel strangely out of words. In a few hours, I’ll see my counsellor for a one-on-one for
Last night I was reading a chapter from Natalie Goldberg’s “Writing Down the Bones”. She encourages us to think often on the reasons why we write. For a long time, technical writing aside, I didn’t write. So, I thought it might be instructive to brainstorm on “why I don’t write”
Some years ago, I gave up the folly of making New Year’s Resolutions. It seemed artificial to make a big deal about what was in actuality just another day. However, isn’t that all they are? Each day is just another day, pregnant with hope that we will find the strength
A friend of mine is fond of the saying: “The only permanent thing is change.” That maxim has been true of my life recently, and will be for some time to come, I am certain. Words have circulated in my head. I have planned journal entries that flow seamlessly while