Category: Writing

I have the words “ooga booga” stuck in my brain for some reason. I also have that song from NSYNC called Bye Bye Bye because it was on the radio when I was driving home from work. I can’t tell you how many songs I’d rather not have in my head these past two weeks.

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When you’re not feeling it, you’re really not feeling it. The thrill is gone. The spark is gone. Everything is gone. I’ve been doing a lot of mindless thinking (sometimes wishful), writing introductions (stupid, I might add), reading the short stories written by someone I know (in my free time) because I don’t want to

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I am hopelessly trying to keep up. I am hopefully falling behind. I find myself not having enough time to do anything anymore. I am tired and worn out by the time I get to the weekends. I’m not sure if I’m ready for 2022 yet. I’m not sure how long I want to have

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I’m leaving the last day of July to finish my blogs I meant to finish last week. There’s been a lot of the same stuff going on in my life, recycling as you say, and to some frustration my stubbornness of not wanting to do the work necessary to begin my second novel idea again.

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I have accepted the fact that everyone is getting older including myself. I didn’t realize how much it would affect me until later in life, like now, since I’m basically in my early middle ages. I can’t believe I’m saying that. Gone are the days of reckless, stupidity. Gone are the days of wanting to

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I am not keeping up at all with my blog. There are many reasons why. I will not go into all of them. I ended up writing seven pages in my actual journal today. I needed to get out of a lot of shit, as they say. I needed to digest everything that has been

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Everyone whispered about the way she parted her hair, but no one had the courage to talk to her. If they had any guts to open their mouths and utter the truth, she would have realized it looked stupid. No one wore her hair like that anymore, not unless you wanted strangers pointing at you.

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That was the time he stopped believing in the stars in the dark sky. It had not shown its true brilliance in months. The constellations were mostly hidden by the clouds. They were different shapes and sizes. When he looked up at the stars, he wished for all his scars to heal. Every time he

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