Dear Danny, Saturday, after work, Chris and I went to see Spider-Man: No Way Home (he had already seen it but I hadn’t. How I avoided spoilers for so long will remain a mystery!). I was not prepared for Marvel’s latest cinematic heartbreak. There were only about 15 people in the theatre with us and... Continue Reading →
I’m 30…Now What? or Confessions of an Unknown Writer who Still Has an Ember of Hope
F—k everything. Or, not everything, but some things. In this recent burnout culture, there are voices, both modern and past, that are the speakerphones of the generation. People like Bo Burnham, with his song “30” from his award-winning Netflix special Inside and Jonathan Larson’s theme of running out of time in Tick…Tick, Boom (also on... Continue Reading →
Finding Joy in the Mundane (A “Dear Danny” Letter)
Dear Danny, Today is a mundane day. I spent the morning cleaning, after Holy Spirit woke me up before 7a.m. (I read Romans 5 and the crucifixion accounts in all the Gospels), and after I fell asleep again. I did, like, a deep, deep clean of my room, and guess what? I found hidden treasures!... Continue Reading →
Writing Opposite Langston Hughes, Poetically or “A Quiet Longing for Life”
I took the last line of a poem by Langston Hughes (“and death a note unsaid” from his “Note in Music” poem) and wrote the opposite of that one line. The rest just…flowed out. Life was many whispers saidin the palms of everyonewho lived and loved you,both out loud and in secret. And those whisperswere... Continue Reading →
Dear Danny (Anger and the Beginning of Acceptance After A Friend’s Suicide)
Dear Danny, I had to work today. I dreaded it cuz it’s nearing Thanksgiving and you know how the store gets near the holidays. Everybody and they mama is in the store, buying up all the groceries, and just chaos everywhere. I’m dreading Wednesday. I have a 3-hour shift but I’m so dreading it… I... Continue Reading →
A Letter to a Friend Who Decided Life was Too Much & Killed Himself
Dear Danny, I thought…I thought I could write about this but I don’t think I can. My mind is still mush and my heart is halfway attached to my torn sleeve and halfway on the floor, a trail of dried blood following me. I can’t do this… *** Suicide just… hits differently than regular death.... Continue Reading →
Musings of a Wanderer 