There's no winning with blame.
It's one of those things that just never make sense. You blame your parents for your insecurities, and sure, it's their fault to an extent. But they initiated yours because of their own. Theirs' were from their parents, and their parents' parents, and...
Blame is a no-win game.
It's the thwarting excuse of weakness.
I cannot fix this, I will not try to fix this, but I will blame you for it. It is your fault.
One day we'll come to terms with ownership.
Everyone wants to own, but no one really wants the push when shove comes to play.
It's easier to rent. Something breaks, you call your landlord to fix it. You can just pick up and move once your lease is up.
Owning is hard. Owning is taking responsibility for something. Owning is taking a stand and saying:
I will like this for a long period of time. I will take care of this. I will take responsibility of this. If something breaks, I will fix it or get it fixed.
Why we rent our choices and actions is beyond me.
Its an action of inaction.
'How's your business going?'
'Fine.' I hate it.
If only he knew her, then he'd understand.
'I wouldn't do it again, if that's what you mean,' I said, pulling my MacBook Pro closer to me atop the long work table in the mall.
What was she thinking?
They always end up letting you down.
I like being flawed. It gives me something to write about.
I let my kids examine my naked body yesterday.
There's no winning with blame.
Every time I think I'm getting better at this whole life thing, I do something wrong and set it back.
It was cold that day. Odd for Florida.
I gave twenty dollars to a woman on the side of the road today.
I like getting older.
There's something about with age and experience comes wisdom that's exhilarating.
The bad thing about family is you can never escape the past.
They remember everything.
I'll see this one through, I tell myself. I'll finish it.
After this, I'll put it to bed. After this, I'll move forward.
I'm the one who makes the show happen.
I was supposed to be an artist.
She asked me.
On her deathbed, she told me.
Something I learned as a visual artist and writer is that some of the best healing comes from expression.
There's something surreal about standing in front of a crowd of strangers—writers who all want the same thing.
At the end of the Writers In Paradise sessions, everyone got a chance to present a refined version of their submitted work, or a new story they were working on.
I was the only teenager at Writers in Paradise with Dennis Lehane, Sterling Watson and other well-known authors back in 2006.
I wake up to an alarm on the iPhone 7 I make payments on because all my older iPhones stop working properly whenever a new one comes out.
(I bought in, didn't I?)
I tried, but it just wasn't for me.
I love how my oldest daughter's friends come to the door to invite her out to play.
It's the third day since I made my decision.
In three days, I've learned more about myself than I have in the past three years.
Sometimes it just doesn't matter.
You can lay out your perfect, step-by-step roadmap, but when it comes down to it, you're never really prepared for anything.
It’s been 12 years since I expressed myself through writing—the one creative outlet that makes me truly happy. It’s going to be a messy, crazy ride, but one I need to take to be the whole person I want to be. Coming with me?