Seven Months of Suffering
I fear that you have missed how sinfully angry I am this year.
I fear that you have missed how sinfully angry I am this year.
Everyone dies twice: The day you die, and the last time anyone says your name.
Seems like a pretty simple dichotomy, right? Perhaps it’s not quite as clean cut as it appears.
As a westerner living in a third world country, I have gained some much-needed perspective…
There’s a word for what I experienced: Trauma.
Maybe creativity isn’t just about making new ideas, but new ways to communicate a good one.
I’m about to say something I never thought I’d say. I thought it would grind against my ‘artistic, creative gears.’
I was in Southern India several years ago and noticed an odd thing about most of the small children there: They all had little red strings tied around their bellies. These toddlers who were just learning to walk and run around were most often stark naked, save these shoelace-sized red bands tied around their middles.
“There’s just no good guys/girls in my life right now…” Make excuses or moves.
Addiction doesn’t start when you bring the bottle to your lips or fire up your laptop; it started hours or days before that moment.