Category: A Journal of Sorts

For so long I have thought that I was renewed. That somehow, over the years I have blossomed into a person separate from my past. That I’ve become someone completely new, but Lord, was I wrong. I am finally seeing the pattern, I’m finally understanding who I am, in the utter core of my being.…

This will be another one of those things that I look back on and think “how pathetic” but screw it. I am a worm, creation is big and I am small, little, and slimy and gross. All I can do is writhe in my own dirt, flailing gracelessly. Trying to make sense of my miniscule…

Oh, what little good has come from many words. My tongue sits restlessly in my mouth, with all the burden of the highest mountain or a volcano on the verge of eruption. A word for the wise; the wise reserve words. Fools twist words without intention. And understanding is lost in the speech of the…