5 Things! Post 100! New Year’s

1. I still start posts with “Wow. How do I start this?”. Beginnings aren’t always easy. Writers know this. Sometimes your beginning unfolds at the end of the story. I think that’s pretty awesome- writers are time travelers. I thought about saying writers invented time travel but I dare not upset scientists for the sake of a joke. I rang in 2014 with friends I loved- we broke plates and danced and laughed and promised this year we’d leave the crappiest parts of 2013 behind, frolic and flourish like no year before. Well…. we did do all that …eventually but I don’t think we knew just how different 2014 was going to end from how it started. Still, with how amazing it is for me right now, in this moment- as I write this post with a little over 6 hours left in the year- I think we brought in this year in the best style. I look back at pictures from the past 365 1/4 days and I am content.

2. I tweeted this year: “I think I’ll end up with a writer” because some spirit passed through me telling me that. I’m now engaged to a Read More

BETMB: T-8 days (5 Things- Dec 14, 2014)

1. What is it about love that makes us use it to justify or excuse our most selfish actions all the while calling it a most selfless feeling? What is it about love that makes us see grey in areas we usually see only black or white? Is it that selfish love is a love tainted? Is it not love at all if it’s selfish? What if it’s a result of love of self trying to exist alongside love for another? Does the former negate the other here? I’m still unsure.

2. Ever found yourself rooting for the non-couple in a love triangle. I’ve found that this happens to me when Read More

Writing: The sixth sense and how to tap into it

It’s 6 am on a Saturday and my muse thought now was the best time to have a conversation.


I have not written in a while. I go several periods where I don’t write for a while.There are several writers who hold tight to the notion that we must write everyday to be real writers. This Salon article quotes an acclaimed writer saying such. I had several thoughts just from the heading- why is there always this pressure on writers to write now, to write today or to write everyday? My issue is decidedly really with the last one. Some ideas are best put down as soon as possible and sometimes we have deadlines and apparently there is something to the thought that it’s better to put down the garbage words you have now on paper so you can clear the way for the good stuff later. But there is also value in taking breaks, in mulling over before putting words to paper. For some, following a story means moving away from the writing  desk and letting that story lead them to the final destination before documenting the journey.”Write when you’re ready to write”- Daniel José Older does a great job of leading a conversation about the harms of feeling like you have to write everyday. The conversation is Storify-ed here and I think it’s an important one for all writers to see.


The problem with feeling like you have to write everyday is Read More


He used to make me so hot. Then things became lukewarm. We dropped to a little below room temperature.

I remember one day we were having a conversation

And there were words said that got each of us on edge.

While he managed to make it safely to secure ground

And I was timidly easing away from the cliff

He said “chill”

And I froze.

I’m insulated now when he’s around.

Because fuck him.

I’ll be my own fire.

Black edit

Lovers Anonymous: Part Three- Acceptance

When did you realize that you were an alcoholic?

Did you wake up and know that yesterday was your last day of being able to go without your medicine and still be able to function properly?

When did I become drunk off of you?

I know that there were days I didn’t need just one more drop of you.

I vaguely remember them but I know they exist.

I’ve seen the pictures of myself in times before,

When you were no more than abstract to me

And I look alive so I know it was once possible to get by without you.

I miss that light in my eyes.

Before it was replaced with glass.

Glass that exists only to bear the reflection of the damage that bears your name.

Glass that sometimes feels like the sand that formed it is running beneath my skin.

Glass that puts my former vulnerability on display.

Glass that shows that what lies inside is less than half empty.

When did you realize you were drunk off love?

I did, the first time I came back.

Lovers Anonymous: Part Two – Denial (Tonight)

Tonight is one of those nights

When lonely has me cloaked in its embrace

When I see the appeal of alcohol

Not to drown my sorrows, but rather to soak up the flavor of this feeling

To wallow til wrinkled

Tonight is one of those nights when I desire to not have my craving satisfied

It’s an itch I don’t want scratched


Tonight I feel for him

But it’s different.

I used to want to be wrapped up in him

Tonight I just wish to wrap him

Between my legs

Have him slide between my lips with his lips

Have his tongue speak to my clit in the language only they can comprehend

Have him guide me to that peak that I visited for the first time with him

Tonight I would encourage him to drink


Yes, I feel like something’s missing but it doesn’t hurt.

There’s no sting, no ache, just a gentle longing for that which is not there

Tonight I feel for him

But like last night and the night before and the night before that,

Tonight he is hers.

And I’m kind enough to not be selfish.



Lovers Anonymous: Part One- Hungover

Blog end note


Be careful when you desire to sip from my fountain
When you come by seeking just one drop
I am a tsunami
I will drown you
Unable to flow tacitly by your town and leave watermarks along your rocks
I will ruin all you hold dear and leave you swollen

Be careful when you desire to sip from my fountain

Not all thirst is meant to be quenched

Blog end noteFeatured image source (seen in mobile view)




It’s been a while since this feeling has visited me.

Its cousins- less impressive and just a tad less charming- have stopped by

But we didn’t quite hit it off.

And then, out of nowhere.

Delight came by.


I was full.

Blog end note