How do I justify the dichotomy between what I write and what I live? I’m obsessed with the fallibility of life, with frailty and its place in the pursuit of happiness. I can only justify it truly with youth: I want to point out through my art that happyness is not happiness; that is, the American ideal doesn’t measure up to the philosophic and mystic lives and experiences that I’ve read about and participated in.
Now, I shun the sentimental. If you've read one blog post you know enough to question why I share with you this shared quote. If you've seen more, then you may outright doubt what you expect to follow. So let me just tell you: I'm going to discuss the genders.
Write a full story in less than three sentences. Fact, fiction, whatever. If I like it, I'll ask for your permission to rewrite the story to be posted next week. HOLY COW BEST PRIZE EVAR ZOMG!?!?
I felt confident about starting the site up again but decided that it was best to put it off for one more week. Thanks for your continued support and patience. Greg
I'm afraid that with the start of school and all of the different work things going on in addition to the updates for the site and my relationship with Ashley, I'm going to have to take a break. One or two weeks tops and then things will either be back on track or even better … Continue reading A week or two off
Shall I be an author, then? Why open myself to criticism? Not every question has answers to be given by me. These are two of those.
Lots of stuff happens in the early fall, two of which impact most of us (the NQOKD community, or even people in general) directly: school begins and companies across the board ramp up for the busy season to come. Fall 2009 @ Emerson is shaping up to be a blast, and I have a job … Continue reading Theme Thursday: Job interviews
Vanessa was no idiot. She knew what was happening but still tried to fix it. I made sure that she couldn't, using precise wording and timing to deliver a painful goodbye with surgical precision.
Ms. Young smiles at me while I tremble in front of the class, my nerves suffering under a weird mix of terror and excitement. There’s only twelve students scattered amongst the tables in the classroom. I know everyone in here by name. I shouldn’t feel scared of them.