• Diary

    Summer Camp And The Breakup Playlist

    Today I thought about the time when my relationship with Angie was nearing the end, and I returned to my old summer camp in search of solace. I spent a week at my old summer camp, wandering around remembering the ghosts of what once was, and yet it now feels like a lifetime ago in some forgotten dream. Nostalgia is the overwhelming desire to return to the way things used to be, yet refusing to acknowledge the fact that things will never be the same as they were, and our memories are often jaded. Life is beautiful it seems, when I am lost in my own reverie, yet I often…

  • Micro Blogs

    Send Me An Angel To Love

    I’ve always been a mysterious person, always full of secrets, dark, painfully introspective and overwhelmingly observant. I’m the kind of person who will tell you the truth, but only if you ask me point-blank what’s bothering me or what I’m thinking about; otherwise, I’ll just keep it to myself and let you continue your assumptions about me. I’m the type of person who refuses to talk about myself in social situations, who never really lets anyone in to see what’s beneath the surface and who keeps it all hidden away. When I was younger, I would often look to the sky, wishing for the universe to send me an angel…

  • Diary

    I’ve Lived My Life As A Prelude To A Mystery

    September 21, 2022 I’ve lived my life as a prelude to a mystery, and the only clues I have are the feelings that are evoked in my heart by what I know about it so far. I’ve wondered whether or not things in my life were ever what they appeared to be, and even today, I still have my own doubts. Maybe it was never supposed to happen, but it’s here now, and here I will stand, forevermore because of what I’ve created out of sheer will, determination, and love. I woke like a creature of the waiting sun; another sleepless night. I climbed out of bed and stumbled into…

  • Writing

    The Lost Girl Was Meant To Be Found

    The lost girl was meant to be found, for she herself holds precious and wondrous things the world has yet to see. She was born with raindrops in her eyes, but like broken china, she cries until all that’s left are fissures of light. Happy! The word slipped out the moment I awoke, before I could help myself. I wake up each morning, hearing the birds sing and the echoes of sighing angels, and perhaps it’s not where I belong, the beauty of my new surroundings have me watching, listening, and learning. With time, the past feels like nothing more than a lost memory, as I learn to adapt to…

  • Writing

    Today Is The Day I Quit Social Media

    Today was the day I quit social media for good. There are many reasons why I decided to quit, but I am most excited about all of the benefits that come with it. The first thing I noticed today was how much time I had and how much more productive I felt during my day! Social media hasn’t just taken away precious hours of my time, but it’s also distracted me from what I could get done during the day. At the end of the day, social media just led me to be less productive as well as less happy overall in my daily life. Social media can have a…

  • Writing

    Excessive Religiosity In America Is A Threat To The Separation Of Church And State

    We establish no religion in this country, we command no worship, we mandate no belief. Nor will we ever. Church and state are, and must remain, separate. All are free to believe or not believe, all are free to practice a faith or not, and those who believe are free and should be free, to speak of and act on their belief. At the same time as our constitution prohibits state religion, establishment of it protects the free exercise of all religions. And walking this fine line requires government to be strictly neutral. Ronald Reagan Religious freedom in America has allowed the nation to become one of the most religiously…

  • Writing

    The Sarah McLachlan Effect: Why I Almost Named My Website After A Song

    The first time I heard Sarah McLachlan’s Building A Mystery, it felt like my life was being reflected back at me through song. The chorus sums up the experiences of my young adult life at the time: I had no idea where I was going or how to get there, but I knew that with each moment and experience, I was building something solid and real within myself that would prepare me for what comes next. My website on Tripod was originally titled Building A Mystery, after the Sarah McLachlan song. Building A Mystery was my first choice when it came to deciding what my website should be named. I…

  • Writing

    True Writers Never Stop Being Rebels

    “The writer who is a real writer is a rebel who never stops.” William Saroyan In the literary world, there are many rules, regulations, and guidelines to writing properly and following traditional formats and styles of writing. But true writers don’t follow these rules—they break them, they bend them, they do whatever they want to do in order to write the most creative stories they can think up. True writers never stop being rebels; they break free from all norms and structures so that their story can be told with the most powerful voice possible. My success was the direct result of fearless rebellion against common norms and traditional structures…

  • Cornerstone Content,  Writing

    From Ties That Bind To Freedom: How I Escaped The Cycle Of Codependency

    For many years, I lived in a constant fear of being abandoned by the people around me, so I did everything in my power to keep them happy and close by me. That strategy worked fine until the day I found myself standing all alone without anyone else to turn to. My earliest memories are of chaos. Chaos both at home and school, one seeming not to escape the other. It’s because of this that I made sure as soon as I had the means, I would turn and run away. But, I could never get away from the broken ties of ropes left over from the circus of our…

  • Cornerstone Content,  Writing

    I’ve Lived A Life Less Ordinary

    Today is the day that I’ve decided to write down all the things I’ve been holding back my entire life. Now is the time for me to finally write about black forests and wolves, the monster under my bed. This is my time, blessed, reverent, I understand. I was born intersex; for the first few years of my life, doctors weren’t sure of my birth gender. My parents decided to name me Thomas, and as I grew, I was effectively raised as a girl, which would have been my choice if I had been asked. Although I attended pre-school as a girl, my father insisted on enrolling me in grade…