Showing Up

Photo by me, taken in Conifer, Colorado in 2010 as I left my job at the liquor store.

Life is Hard. So What? Write.

Life is fucking hard. It’ll eat you up like a rabid dog chewing at your exposed ankle. Make a mistake or a wrong choice or find out cancer is riddling your bones and things get really difficult, real quick. God, or whatever fuckery created us, didn’t create a smooth path forward (well, apparently that god did and Eve decided to cast us into sin—let’s not talk about how that vilifies women, k?). If you make it any length in this life, you’re going to be bloody and beaten and broken.

Americans seem to make this even harder. Our independence just might be our downfall too. We sure like to blame other people for their problems or predicaments in this life. Social programs and a crumbling health care system set us up to fail harder if we fall on difficult times. But, we don’t worry about those people because that will never be us.

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Photo by [Skyler King]( on [Unsplash](


It’s a black virus wending its way through your veins or a vicious storm on the sea’s horizon threatening the small, wooden boat you just finished building.

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Photo by [Mateusz Spiewla]( on [Unsplash](

Time Is Not on Your Side

I’ve been quiet here on my blog this week.

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Photo by [Alexa Mazzarello]( on [Unsplash](

Habit Is the Precursor

I’ve written a post a day for over a month now.

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