I'm writing to you, depressed reader, from the land of the dead. I've finally figured out how to put pen to paper in this spirit realm, but that story is for another time. I've got a much more pressing issue that I must talk to you about. For any of you who are contemplating suicide,…Read more Suicide is Slow Motion
The Daysleeper is rambling.
I sailed into rough waters. Blew a gasket. Bit off more than I could chew. Any of those metaphors would work to describe my experience after three months of constant writing and twice-weekly publishing on WordPress. By my last post in March, I was exhausted, overwhelmed, and disgusted. It was my own doing. Stormy emotional and…Read more Writing the Ship
Four boys bullied me in middle school. By far the worst of them was a scrawny, green-eyed boy with dirty blond hair and three first names who rode the neighborhood school bus. He lived on the golf course that I lived across from. Not long after we had first met, he invited me over to his…Read more Boys Being Boys
“A guy, he just came in and got the key. You’n wait for him in here, if ya like. Them woods is fu-,” said the exhausted-looking woman, in her blue and red, button-down gas station uniform as Brandon fast-walked through the black-framed glass door. Outside, the night sky glowed orange from the hulking oil refinery nearby.…Read more Southern Hospitality
Tim stared, mouth agape, at the blurred clock glowing green. Fear pricked all over him. The street was hollow and silent. Nothing disturbed its stillness, save for Tim’s timid footfalls. He searched the street’s length for any movement but found none as far as he could see. Everything in him told him to leave, to…Read more Dark Dreams and a Dreaded Hunt
"There's a one in billions chance that we are in base reality." - Elon Musk The media of my time, and its progression, has altered my memories. I can't remember my past in high definition. Although I'm sure my eyes were seeing things just as they are now, I have no memory of it.…Read more My Past is a Blurry Polaroid