In which I stagger back onto the field, pretending my limp is an intentional pimp-strut.

“Most of us have two lives. The life we live, and the unlived life within us. Between the two stands Resistance.”

war of art

-Steven Pressfield, THE WAR OF ART 

AKA Mandatory Reading for EVERYBODY. If you don’t believe me, check out these amazing, gorgeous visual summaries by artist Sunni Brown.


I’ve got a health… thing. I will tell you more about it in a few weeks, when I can elaborate a little. But, yes. Health. Thing. Not dangerous, nope, but exhausting and distracting at best. So, no posts. No writing. No submitting. No nothing. No bueno.

And as always, when one takes a prolonged break from the keyboard, it’s hard to come back. Why is it always so hard to come back? It’s absurd. Resistance is absurd. And I keep typing out similes and deleting them again because nothing is quite adequate enough to describe how absurd Resistance is. Oh Resistance, you horrible dagger-toothed clown. Stop sitting on my chest at night, you black-eyed wet-haired ghost. Ain’t nobody got time for that. I especially don’t have time for that.

… it is weird, but the more I trash-talk Resistance, the better I feel. Please excuse me, I’ve got some work to do.