Miracles surface when we keep going and humbly surrender to this bizarre experience called life. Less becomes plenty. Chaos transforms into peace. Unfathomable pain is cured. Questions answer themselves and one day there’s nothing left to do but look into the light and whisper ‘I wonder what will happen next.’ I wish it hadn’t taken…Read more Golden
faith
Believe
Photo credit: Nathan Vines Once upon a time, I tried explaining my ‘container belief’ theory to my therapist. For whatever reason, when I’m the client, I lose all capacity to make rational sense and instead ramble on in half-baked metaphors loosely beaten with full blown emotion. She’s somehow always understood me and for that I’ll…Read more Believe
Holes
Photo credit: Nathan Vines The ones you made in the wall Where we compressed unanswered questions Between skin and printed memories Incomplete stories Haunt the space that embraces What’s left Inside the holes made In your body A bloody cave Seeps into the empty tomb Feeling up Necrotic wombs Breeding generations of unhealed wounds Where…Read more Holes
Contortionist
noun: contortionist; plural noun: contortionists an entertainer who twists and bends their body into strange and unnatural positions. Contortion is a performance art in which performers called contortionists showcase their skills of extreme physical flexibility. Contortion acts often accompany acrobatics, circus acts, street performers and other live performing arts. Contortion acts are typically performed in…Read more Contortionist
Hand Me Down
The truth is, it didn’t start with any of us. We were created as catalysts. A disastrous miracle in a mastermind’s head, bashing ourselves against each other’s shadow and light, from one generation to the next since the very beginning of time, until one day we finally implode back to nothingness. It’s all so foolishly…Read more Hand Me Down
Brideshead Revisited
It was one of those distastefully delicious English novels full of decorated heirs, lust, costumes, shameless wealth and immoral secrets saturated in religious guilt. There must’ve been love somewhere in the hastily written pages as the author, who’d recently fallen out of the sky, attempted to encounter grace. But who among us can actually say…Read more Brideshead Revisited
Still
Journaling this morning I had a little epiphany about my general discomfort with ambiguity. ‘Where are we going? When will we get there? Why are we going? Who will be there? What will we do? What will or whose will, will be done to us? Beanie, t-shirt, jacket, snacks?’ I thought if I understood what…Read more Still
44
It’s amazing how quickly the memory of pain fades if we allow ourselves to be present before, during and after. I like the unconventional shape of my story, that I can make myself laugh during a panic attack, forgive things society calls unforgivable and be playfully sarcastic with god in the midst of an existential…Read more 44
Disarmour
The universe doesn’t owe us an explanation, but that hasn’t stopped me from staring in awe as questions fall out of my open mouth. God, why did you let all this happen but not that? Why do we have free will? How big is the universe? Why was I born? Why can’t you physically wrap…Read more Disarmour
Sunday
Spent the better part of the morning wrestling with god. Why do we have free will? Why are only some things destined? What, exactly, are the rules in your chess game? Not that I’m particularly good at either. The only thing I’ve done right is yield when I’m being pulled by the providential scruff no…Read more Sunday
Born in Providence 