Semi-Daily Scribbles
Carving out a corner to post random crap.
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Category: Fear
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How are you navigating the world right now? How did you process the world in which you reside before The Great Dismality? This realm in which we find ourselves has always been all rough edges with cruelty to spare. And beauty beyond compare. It still is, and that fact either brings you comfort or despair.…
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Dirk wandered into a fever dream disguised as an office cubicle. He'd just been assigned a post at a very important firm that made magic by counting numbers. He slid into an available stall and waited for work to flow in. Nervous thoughts pinged and boinged throughout his racing brain. A swath of perspiration that…
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…and now a word about Substack. I'm an oldster who misses the MySpace and Tumblr era. Creative, fun hangouts where the cool kids held court. I don't recall ever having to dodge freak-a-zoids on those early social media platforms. Substack, however, is a different beast. I've only been an active "Content Creator" for a month,…
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It's been two days since you left this place to start a new journey. Odd thing, time. It holds no meaning, serves no particular purpose Right Now since I'm bouncing all over the place with all sorts of Memories & Thoughts. I'll be sharing snippets and photos for a while until I can write a…
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HOMEWORK What comprises generational trauma?– Alcoholism– Death by Suicide– Denial– Depression– Drug Addiction– Lack of Education– Misogyny– Poverty– Racism– Rape– Schizophrenia– Silence Make a list of self-sabotaging behaviors.Procrastination. Analysis Paralysis. FoMO. Poor Time Management. O.K. With Being Not Okay. Stare / Compare / Go Nowhere. Cheerleader for Everyone But Me.Imposter Syndrome. Don't Always Speak Up…
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wedding bells sound the news your body's been foundscatter ricethrow the dicevegas resounds with tourist traps and vicewhile the tides rise along the left coastfishing boats are lost at seanow it's just you and meto navigate this soundscape without your discordant chords
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Barbie, with her wicked business acumen, saw this seismic shift in the world of comms way before any in-the-trenches types were mysteriously summoned, in small batches, to a hard to find 4th floor conference room with nary an explanation as to why. So the story goes… A man dressed in black sat in front of…
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The Glowing Rose is a tavern on the outskirts of town. Just past it, little over a mile, the road runs out. If a body were traveling through those heavily wooded parts, they’d see the border of another country soon enough. The old timers, though, have a hard time leaving their homes. “I’ve spent all…
Semi-Daily Scribbles 