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Charlie Kirk, Erika Kirk, Turning Point USA

The Big Recap

Journal

Charlie Kirk, Erika Kirk, Turning Point USA

Big goin’s on since my last blog appearance.

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Journal

Charlie Kirk, Erika Kirk, Turning Point USA

Commentary, Journal

X, Microblogging, Twitter, Charlie Kirk, Housekeeping, Social Media, Politics, Current Events, The Internet, Wellbeing, Carpal Tunnel, Cubital Tunnel, Surgery

X Marks The Spot

Commentary, Journal

X, Microblogging, Twitter, Charlie Kirk, Housekeeping, Social Media, Politics, Current Events, The Internet, Wellbeing, Carpal Tunnel, Cubital Tunnel, Surgery

It’s been a gaddamned thrill, rebuilding my presence on X. So much information to take in, some of it even factual. So much interaction – some of it actually rewarding. But, most-importantly, I’ve rediscovered an outlet for all the crap on my mind, one that isn’t altogether so different from that on which it’s based.

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Commentary, Journal

X, Microblogging, Twitter, Charlie Kirk, Housekeeping, Social Media, Politics, Current Events, The Internet, Wellbeing, Carpal Tunnel, Cubital Tunnel, Surgery

Journal

Morning, Wellbeing, Pain, CPAP

Night-Morning

Journal

Morning, Wellbeing, Pain, CPAP

There’s something about a daybreak, though, that’s amazing to me. The hour or so just before it. “Night-morning”, as my Grandma Gwen used to call it when explaining it to me as a preschooler.

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Journal

Morning, Wellbeing, Pain, CPAP

Journal

Mental Health, Wellbeing

Epiphany And Seachange

Journal

Mental Health, Wellbeing

Occasionally, I’ll have an epiphany. About where I’m at and, if need be, how to change it. Less-frequently will come a sea change – a period afterward that’s reflective of having faced some one of life’s dilemmas and tackled it. Successfully. The way I exist in total is generally turned on its ear, thusly – and for the better. Even the manner in which I carry myself. Chin held high, corners of my mouth upturned to a smile. And social interaction? Like night turned to day.

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Journal

Mental Health, Wellbeing

Journal

Sexual Abuse, Mental Health, Creativity, The Blog

Hiatus

Journal

Sexual Abuse, Mental Health, Creativity, The Blog

This is where I excuse myself for a few minutes while I prep the morning coffee

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Journal

Sexual Abuse, Mental Health, Creativity, The Blog

Stories

Pain, Rumor, Sleeplessness, CIA, Dreams, Facades, Politics, Wellbeing

Pain And Espionage

Stories

Pain, Rumor, Sleeplessness, CIA, Dreams, Facades, Politics, Wellbeing

“I’m no killer!” I screamed. But we’re all killers. Each and every one of us. We were born to die and it was always our responsibility to die and if any of us failed to follow it through, the next guy would let the clown have it. I’ve actually not been alive since Warrenton and even then, who’s to say.

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Stories

Pain, Rumor, Sleeplessness, CIA, Dreams, Facades, Politics, Wellbeing

Stories

Echo Chamber, Facades

Assam

Stories

Echo Chamber, Facades

“You would think…” he began. Which irks me. Would you? I mean, you didn’t go over the instructions, first?

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Stories

Echo Chamber, Facades

Journal

Pain, Wellbeing, Strength, Weakness, DISH

If My Aunt Had Balls

Journal

Pain, Wellbeing, Strength, Weakness, DISH

“You got this,” I say, forcing the words lightly through my lips in a hiss… Not really believing I “have” shit. It’s got me worried about everything from the DISH I’ve been diagnosed with, interfering with nerves, to kidney stones or even cancer.

What if it’s cancer?

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Journal

Pain, Wellbeing, Strength, Weakness, DISH

Journal

DISH, Medicine, Wellbeing

DISH

Journal

DISH, Medicine, Wellbeing

I’ve been diagnosed with Diffuse Idiopathic Skeletal Hyperostosis, or “DISH”. It’s turning my body’s tendons and ligaments to bone, starting itself along my spine. Calcifying my joints. I worry I’ll soon be crippled.

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Journal

DISH, Medicine, Wellbeing

Commentary, Stories

Politics

Echo Chamber

Commentary, Stories

Politics

She wasn’t into the theories I espoused that warned of shit like coup d’état’s and jackboots and bonfires where her books used to be. Unlike me, she wasn’t seeing swastikas everywhere she looked and freight cars being marshaled strategically across the country. She didn’t like him, didn’t much care to listen to him. But was it really as bad as all this? And wasn’t I really only being paranoid and a bit melodramatic?