I tried, but it just wasn't for me.
I went in, at first, bitter from life, lost love, and pain. But over time, I softened. I gave it everything I could.
But now, I can't.
I can't look at all the faces around me, entering their domain with a heart filled to the brim of disbelief and frustration with most of the followers I meet.
No, I don't feel like anyone owes me a damned thing. I'm entitled to nothing.
I planned, early on, to make my way up the rough road. But, I'm not too proud to turn away a helping hand.
Yet, I still can't wrap my head around this. This thing. This belief that so many people have lived and died for.
But outside of can't is want. I don't want to try anymore.
I'm not one to knock on death's door begging for forgiveness.
For loving and bearing children and being faithful and having a beautiful life unsullied by fear? Fear of stepping "out of line" or fucking up so royally, you cannot be forgiven.
I'll be me and do what I feel is right, and sometimes do what I know is wrong.
Because I judge me.
When it's all over, I'll have lived well.
Isn't that what matters?
He didn't sign up for this, but he's still here.
I've got nothing of value today. Only anger.
What could it be?
I didn’t prepare for it.
I think I like not knowing.
What do I want to do with this?
Hmm… Good question.
It had just started to rain and the dog was whining at the back sliding glass door.
I don't want to get my hopes too high, but it's something to look forward to.
"What do you want it to be?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you act like I haven't done anything over the last three years. Three years..."
So much stuff. What's the goddamned point?
Time seems to slip away faster now.
If only I could take them with me.
'How's your business going?'
'Fine.' I hate it.
If only he knew her, then he'd understand.
'I wouldn't do it again, if that's what you mean,' I said, pulling my MacBook Pro closer to me atop the long work table in the mall.
What was she thinking?
They always end up letting you down.
I like being flawed. It gives me something to write about.
I let my kids examine my naked body yesterday.
There's no winning with blame.
Every time I think I'm getting better at this whole life thing, I do something wrong and set it back.
It was cold that day. Odd for Florida.
I gave twenty dollars to a woman on the side of the road today.
I like getting older.
There's something about with age and experience comes wisdom that's exhilarating.
The bad thing about family is you can never escape the past.
They remember everything.
I'll see this one through, I tell myself. I'll finish it.
After this, I'll put it to bed. After this, I'll move forward.
I'm the one who makes the show happen.
I was supposed to be an artist.
She asked me.
On her deathbed, she told me.
Something I learned as a visual artist and writer is that some of the best healing comes from expression.
There's something surreal about standing in front of a crowd of strangers—writers who all want the same thing.