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Everyone loves an underdog.

June 15, 2014

I took my best friend’s baby for a walk today and felt the joy of knowing that for those hours I existed just to keep her alive (and happy). I talked to my parents on the phone as I walked with her snuggled up against me in a carrier. I accepted smiles from strangers. I did nothing but wander, bouncing slightly on the balls of my feet at the stoplights, holding my breath now and again so that I could feel her chest rise and fall against me, turning her head slightly once in a while, so that her cheek (and not her tiny mouth and nose) pressed into my chest.

A lover/friend’s grandfather passed away today. Earlier this year, his uncle committed suicide.

I’m pretty sure joy is fighting a losing battle against suffering.



June 12, 2014


I’m not going to fall. I’m going to keep on.

I know what’s in those shadowy depths, and it bores the shit out of me.

I hope you are all well. I think I am.

Patron saint of lost causes…

January 10, 2014

That pit is bottomless.

November 19, 2013

A little bedtime reading.

The Wolves

October 25, 2013

I am deeply unsatisfied with the work I am doing. I miss my family. I’ve got no sex life. No prospects, no future.

What the ever-loving fuck am I doing here?


Jesus, okay, okay. I know the ways in which I am incredibly fucking lucky – I have a home, a job, a cat, a car, a friend or two who love me well, my health, fulfilling hobbies, a community willing to give back as much as I put into it. More than anyone could reasonably ask for, really.

But I have to want love. That is to say, I want the one goddamn thing that I can’t make happen. Because it turns out I’m a fucking fool, after all.

But if you’ve read this far, you know that already.

So what

October 23, 2013

Can you feel it?

Sometimes hope just shrugs and walks away. It’s not so bad.

For a minute there…

October 1, 2013

I thought I had someone.

That sulking, monstrous bag of shittiness I drag around with me split, a little, stretched taut as it was, at the kindest touch. Slit, then, and soon lay flayed: a future rolling soft and bright with dappled light like some sweet pastoral scene before me.

Okay, nothing as saccharine as all that, but still: a future, finally. A love. A life.

And now, while that hope glows softly still, it seems I’ve got to try to stitch it all back up, hoist that fucker onto my back, and press on.


At least, this time, I think he felt it too.