Blog

It's been about six months since my last confession, (blog post), and I’d say that roughly this is how long it takes to be so revved up by an idea, approximately how long it takes to feel a tide shifting inside that i literally have NO CHOICE but to write about it edit the living crap out of my words become disappointed with the result OVERCOME said disappointment then upload it to some intangible sphere and be happy if 2-3 eyeballs give it a peek.  We've made it. I still fee

I’m far less restless than I was a year ago and I have a few suspicions as to why. I’m dog sitting this weekend- which is always a fine staycation when the family has an espresso machine, an affectionate golden retriever, and a big ol’ sectional fit for a semi-annual blogger. I took the pup for a lap, fed her canned green beans, then brewed myself a nice cup of something Colombian roasted and began to type. That cliche pranced across my mind, “writing until the coffee gets co

Many things have changed in just the little bit that I have been in Granada. But thank God I have changed with them too. A month or two...

I haven’t written in a long time. Maybe, oh just maybe, I can make some sense out of the clutter of emotions that drone around like gnats thwacking the sides of my brains. I can’t say I feel discontent. I certainly have every need of mine met and more. AND MORE! But I’m still lacking something. Answers to life's obscure mysteries, eternal satisfaction, self-actualization, a EU charging adapter. There are times I feel far from God, out of prayer, out of devotion, and that is

just a bit of chapter 1 A quick blurb into the life of "Pope". It costs 20 bucks to crush a dream.  20 euros I guess I should say. I’ve been mixing the words dollars, bucks and euros for nearly a year now. And though I often confuse them, whatever currency I land on, I don't have a lot of it. Regardless, it was exactly 20 clams to buy a roll of Ektar film for the beat up Olympus Trip 35 analogue camera I found at the kringloop* . Film that I didn’t really  need to have. But w

May 16, 2024 My mom asked me the other day out of curiosity why I write, moreover why I publish what I write. And ironically for someone who seems to have a lot to say, I found myself too stumped to answer. I equate the question to kind of like asking a musician why they upload their songs somewhere rather than keep them in their saved files. Perhaps logically, that is the way they cast a line for fame, for recognition. But I couldn’t possibly believe that every musician I ad

It all makes a lot more sense now, Crying at weddings.  It’s a newer sensation. I don't mind at all. Normally when my eyes burn and cheeks clench, I’m holding onto pain. When my nose sizzles and my inhales seize, I’m digesting hurt. But this time. this time it was so wonderfully different. To cry from joy is one of my favorite things to feel. I love most when it isn’t about me at all, when I am only a witness to something so marvelous. May these tears fall for others.  Always

I was deplorably cross with myself that summer, unable to decide on anything- from what I wanted to do with my life to what I oughta smear on my toast in the morning. My life had become a stand-still frame, utterly paralyzed by the inability to decide, and often interrupted by this manic urge to scratch my skin seven layers deep. I had claw marks from my attempts at relieving this debilitating full-body itch. Popped blood vessels left peppered trails of purple and red around