live loud. live with bravery, openness. be vulnerable. BE SEEN.

“Admit it. You aren’t like them. You’re not even close. You may occasionally dress yourself up as one of them, watch the same mindless television shows as they do, maybe even eat the same fast food sometimes. But it seems that the more you try to fit in, the more you feel like an outsider, watching the “normal people” as they go about their automatic existences. For every time you say club passwords like “Have a nice day” and “Weather’s awful today, eh?”, you yearn inside to say forbidden things like “Tell me something that makes you cry” or “What do you think deja vu is for?”. Face it, you even want to talk to that girl in the elevator. But what if that girl in the elevator (and the balding man who walks past your cubicle at work) are thinking the same thing? Who knows what you might learn from taking a chance on conversation with a stranger? Everyone carries a piece of the puzzle. Nobody comes into your life by mere coincidence. Trust your instincts. Do the unexpected. Find the others…” 

Timothy Leary

how many times is this going to happen before something changes?


i can't wrap my head around it.
i can't understand.
i truly don't see how it's possible.

yesterday as i was ordering groceries,
stocking shelves,
telling a joke or two

there was almost an alternate reality
on the other side of the country
on the other end of humanity

there were children, little humans, experiencing outrageous horror.
there were parents getting a phone call that they never in a million years imagined they would get.




makes me sick
makes me question a path in life


don't try to tell me that these children
these innocent, precious little lives
were somehow "destined" for this ....fate

don't try to tell me this event was sent to these families as a trial.
how dare you

no paycheck

blush too easily:
too often
at any emotional response.
laughter
anger
frustration
flattery
confusion
embarassment

strange crimson phenomenon in my cheeks.
why do you do this and why can't i stop you?

cry too easily:
in public
behind closed doors
in bed
in cars
when singing
when acting
when thinking
when reaching inside my heart
or breaking some wall down
[because contrary to popular belief i have them...]
and it feels literal, crashing

trust too easily:
too fully
others are wary
so why not me?
no apologies
until it makes me feel sorry
but i grovel at my own feet
to ask for forgiveness
for loving so hard that it hurts


wearing my heart on my sleeve
is kinda my day job