Months have roared passed - September, October, November, December, January, February - and I have arrived at the sixth month mark. This moment has traditionally represented a pivotal moment, the halfway point to something new, the vantage point off a mountain's peak from which I could see where I've been and where I was headed … Continue reading Six Months
In my lowest times, I've always turned to music. It lifts me up, consoles me, gives me perspective, and it often articulates my emotions better than I can. On at least one occasion, it has literally saved my life.
Chapter VIII: She held out a box cutter. “Take this. Just in case.” The darkened St. Roch neighborhood was no place to walk without protection.
Chapter VII: It was mid-January and I had returned to familiar territory: jobless and scrambling to put together enough income to make it another month.
Chapter VI: I arrived in Nashville defeated. I had crawled through San Francisco and Chicago amidst the worst of the Great Recession and come out the other side, officially in the latter half of 10 Cities/10 Years; I was drained, bitter, and ready to give up.
Suicide is an option. It’s not the best option. It’s not even a good option, but it persists as an option and for some of us, that immutable fact colors all of our experiences, past, present and future.
In the era of constant connection, how do some remain invisible? Like most writers, artists and non-hunks/babes of the world, I was largely anonymous in my teen years. I had my friends, my groups and my failed attempts at finding love that inevitably led to heartache, but while I was a bit higher profile than … Continue reading Invisible
Watching you dance, so pretty, depresses me like most things depress me or: