Words are most beautiful when they are allowed to express themselves, flowing naturally to what they need to say and where they need to be.
I’m just like you. I’m just like you. I have always been like you.
Thoughts On How I Write
fragments of love, part 1
Saturday Night, 9PM The phone rings. Mom answers it.
For the Writer in You. From the Writer in Me.
A love poem
5am musings on mornings, and dreams, and moments
Because all I write is you.
No longer a pretty baby boy
Let Us Find Our True Self Again.
I Dismissed a Jerk/My Sausage is More Interesting Than This Jerk
Life with an older dog
It’s the place I go in my mind for inspiration.
Turn Passion Into Purpose and Make a Difference in the World
On Writing Your Way Out of Misery
Until recently, I’d lay in bed every night and wonder if I turned off the stove.
And we’ll keep any cherry tree that may or may not be in the garden, thankyouverymuch.
I spent yesterday in Hell. At Auschwitz and Birkenau, 90 minutes outside of Krakow, Poland.
Last summer, I discovered a cooler version of myself. Really.
A journey of self-discovery
A story about childhood, 5 Alive, and being alive.
A Manifesto for HUM
Every Moment of Everyday
He would stare at you incessantly from across the room; his eyes glued only on you, in a crowded room full of people.
An obscure writer’s thoughts on obscurity.
A Writer’s Journal has no stories yet.