the forgetting. 

I’ve been reading rupi kaur, since getting her book “milk and honey” for Christmas. She makes me want to write poetry again. Her voice is simple; ideas complex. This one hit me because of the time of year-a time to end thoughts of those who are not worth dwelling on.

So I decided to add my own voice to this poem-call it a fan tribute. But also my thoughts in response to what her poem triggered in my head.

the forgetting-

Some days it is easy, they slip by like ribbons through my fingers-

Ribbons you have not dirtied or crushed.

The thought of you doesn’t darken my face with its shadow.

Some days it is raw, these days grind me up and spit me out in pieces.

Pieces you have touched so thoroughly.

Your face haunts from every corner.


The silver lining is: even on raw days, the memory is growing dimmer.

the forgetting is growing stronger. the letting go is taking hold.


So today I decided I was going to bite the bullet and write my first article for iWriter. I scanned in vain at the measly offerings and decided on writing a professional article about the latest news about Chris Hemsworth. I know of him, but really could care less. But, a dollar is a dollar, right? No, seriously. The 150 word article paid $1.01. Took an hour to write.

But…I feel everyone needs to pay their dues when they are working up the ladder in a field they desperately want to be in. So, I grabbed myself a Coors Lite and settled my laptop on my knees to dive into the insipid world of the rich and famous. I did my research and wrote a concise, professionally-toned article about Hemsworth and his latest filming endeavors.

And…it was rejected.

Reason? Poor quality.

Next time, dude, just get out a gun and shoot me. Telling a writer who lives and breathes to write that their stuff is poor quality is like telling Kiefer Sutherland he can’t act. Next time, burn down my house and piss on my grandpa’s grave too. Sigh.

Well, that was overly dramatic. However, there’s a certain part of you that dies when someone says they don’t like something you’ve created. It’s a little stain on your soul; almost a rejection of you as a person.

In other news, Cinder the cat has begun to perch atop my bedroom door so that it can’t be opened or closed. As an added bonus, she will bat at your hair as you pass by and possibly grab scalp as well. Little furry asshole.

First Post

Because who needs a better title than that, right? In this blog, I will basically just have diarrhea of the mouth. Everyone needs a place where they can go to write down their innermost feelings and just decompress. “It’s a big bag of weird up there!”, to quote one of my favorite fictional characters of all time, Lorelai Gilmore. I’m a huge Gilmore Girls fan because the show tells it like it is. If you can keep up with the cultural and literary references.

I really enjoy writing. I love to get in the moment and just feel it with words. I am currently working on a fiction novel and also a book of poetry. My cat makes that difficult when she insists on standing on my laptop. Ever tried to type beneath cat ass? Not easy, I assure you.

I am going to begin my master’s program this coming January because the Powers That Be have decreed that it is necessary to hold onto my teaching license. It will be in English and Creative Writing. Luckily, this goes hand in hand with writing articles online. And working on my blog. And writing papers. So basically, I will have bloodshot eyes around the clock and my hands will take on that curved claw shape that comes from being arched over a computer keyboard non-stop. Whee! Can’t wait.

That’s all for now. I know that wasn’t terribly interesting and you are probably sorry you read it, but I will promise that my life and editorials are usually more interesting than this particular Tuesday. If I could give that time back to you, I would.