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[Blog] No One Chooses To Be An Artist

No matter the medium they’re deciding to dabble in, I can’t help but find it slightly comical every time someone declares that they want to be an artist. It’s become a subtle way of chasing fame and fortune while…


[Blog] Our Fire, Another Letter To My Grandma

I had to turn my floor heater on this morning after I woke up to an unreasonable chill. The zapping sound it made upon being used after so long made my overly cautious brain immediately look for an escape on the…


[Blog]The Workforce Is Modern Day Slavery

He knew what the answer was going to be when my father asked about my new job because it was the same as it’s been for the past 10 years. I’ve never been able to fight my innate repulsion…


[Blog] But Sometimes I Need to be Ravished

Any conversation he attempts to make with me is drowned out by the sounds of my own thoughts, which are always elsewhere. The small talk is pointless anyways. Liam knows that I’m not here for love. Because if I were,…


[Blog] Another Entry About Unrequited Love?

And alas, I’ve run into a boy who is too wise and self aware to manipulate. Which, if I’m going to be honest here, is exactly what I was trying to do. Because an ‘I like you enough to…


[Blog] Breaking Up With Friends

My best friend in middle school was bullied for being ugly. And maybe she was. But I couldn’t notice. All I could see was how much she understood my sardonic sense of humor and that was enough to make us inseparable.…


[Blog] I Wish I Were A Rapper

I wish I were a rapper. And not just because I envy the way music resonates with it’s audience in comparison to others mediums of art. (Oh, how I regret that I will never experience a room full of…


[Blog] Taking My Inner Child; I’m Fighting For Custody

As I watch the colors in my cup of coffee swirl, I longingly remember a time when life was so simple. My 9 year old self would be deeply disappointed in the vanity slave held captive by technology that…


[Blog] Letter to my Grandma

See, me and you, our relationship was different. Calling you my ‘grandma’ almost devalues it. Like you were merely some lady I visited every other summer. But you are the woman my father took me home from the hospital…