I’m tired. Not sleepy, but tired of what has become my life. One minute I’m up the next minute I’m down. Where is the happy medium? Will there ever be one? I don’t know. So for now I write. Write what I can’t say, but feel. And when there are no more words to write, [...]Continue Reading →
***Me playing around with fiction. Never wanted to be a fiction writer.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
As I sat in the living room of my condo overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, sipping Nuni green tea, honey and what seemed like a pound of sugar, I thought to myself, ‘Who the hell is banging on my door at [...]Continue Reading →