This is where it hurts.

And don’t we all have our gashes. That wound that is just yours, in your secret tender spot. 100 people, poked in that particular place, might wince, might slap away a tiny sting in irritation. But you, you can’t stand even the thinnest chafe, the warmest puff of wind. The nerves are inflamed, torn muscles…

Pride, Porkers, Porches. Please.

It’s not a “bucket list.”  It’s my Rockstar Dreams. The fantasies I lived inside as a kid, clear into my twenties. I lived inside my head and though the rest of my self suffered for it, my health, my relationships, my strength of character, the interior of my skull was nourished and rich. I wanted…

Invictus

This isn’t a New Year’s Resolution. This is what is whispered alone, only to yourself, when you’ve washed up on a strange but solid shore, chest heaving, frightened, shocked, but still alive. You’re alive. You’re going to need to fight to stay that way.  Not vague, namby pamby promises. No. You are precisely aware of…

Fester like a sore – and then run.

  What happens to a dream deferred?  I can tell you. The problem starts when you realize the life you assumed was just going to happen, like it does on TV and for your favorite famous people, requires a shit-ton of suffering to get. Years of it. And, you have to be naturally good at…