A place to collect thoughts.

I write sometimes. Not always, but sometimes. When I do, I feel a strong urge to share my work. I have done this since I was a teenager, and I appreciate watching the arc of my growth and introspection across my life so far. Though I sometimes begrudge the person I was, he kind of sucked. I can't argue it was a step along my journey.

I will collate and share some of these writings here on this blog. Some are personal, some are creative. Some are new, some are very old. I think some are halfway decent, and frankly, at worst they are a window into the mind of another time and person. Maybe these writings help someone in their own personal struggle. Or perhaps they can help the reader understand my path a little better. Whatever the outcome, welcome.

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Self-worth, sexuality, and suicide: A long form answer to “how are you doing?”

I am a frail and desperate thing. Maybe we all are at times, but I can only speak for myself. I almost ended my life. I wanted to for a long time. I have a story to tell here. A very long story that doesn’t have an ending. Let's back up… We are walking along the road up the hill, a hike up Mount Davidson. There is tension between us. I’ve been talking to a friend who is seeing a married man. Per the friend, it is not going well. My relationship with this friend causes stress for my wife. As we walk, the tension comes to convalesce into a more concrete form. My relationship with this friend, the one who is a third in an imbalanced and to be short-lived triad, is a source of distrust and discord between us. My wife suspects I have feelings for her. These sorts of relationships that she does not know how to interpret have been an issue before. I have historically grown very close emotionally with women. This is something my wife does not understand. Her role models of relationshi

Fiction: The Tumultuous Tale of Isley Lamia - Chapter 1 - Thibeault

A character crafted for a friend's world. Isley is complicated and not a good person. I chose to tell his story, at least at first, from the perspective of his family. ---------------------------------------------------------------- Thibeault Lamia walked confidently down the assembly halls. Another debate, another rousing victory for the Lamia family and the Empire as a whole. The Grand Duchess consistently reviled stooping to what she called: “too kindly trade agreements with the colonists”. It was quite a feat, between Thibeault and some other level headed voices he had managed to broker a rather excellent agreement between Kiva and the Meliorans, despite all odds. He was excited to head home with the news. Isaac would be proud, he had been so curious about the details this morning. Thibeault smiled despite himself as he strutted down the crowded halls. Isaac was turning twelve this year, and he was one of the most astute children Thibeault had ever had the pleasure of kn

Nonfiction: Meditation, a discourse on personal practice.

I came to meditation by accident. During adolescence, like many I struggled with emotional control. I was angry. I was horny. I was frustrated. I was… a teenager? I don’t know how we all get through it, I guess we don’t all make it to the other side. I remember starlit nights, best just before the monsoons. Climbing atop the fort in our backyard; I sought privacy and quiet in the moments when my rage, sadness, and hormonal confusion peaked. Sitting cross-legged, staring up at the sky, trying to get a grip on my roiling emotions. After years of this habit, I began to find certain subtleties within myself. Real or imagined, who can say? When on the topic of thought itself, it is impossible to disentangle truth from one's perceived truth. I strongly felt, and feel to this day, energy within my body. I learned to bring it to my hands, and could feel them warming as I focused. I would go through my day with this thought in my mind, practicing applic

Words across time

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