: About Me

I am a narcissist, activist, health nut, vegetarian, neo-informational technology abuser with a penchant for bears. I take myself none too seriously at all, believe in lust at first sight, and know that each and everyday I live is the best one I have ever had.

I am happy, I am hyperactive, I am kind, compassionate, considerate, loud, unfocusable, hyperfabulous, and funny as you will ever know.

My words are my passion, my passion are my words. I would never trade my ability for language for anything on earth. I can never stop writing because when I do stop writing I stop living, and not living is not an option for me. It is full tilt, 100%, all me all the time, go go go, energetic, high throttle life for me.

I am 24, an English Major at a large university somewhere in Texas. I am words, and they are all that matter to me.

My passion is ...

writing, surprisingly

I know too much about ...

hypoxia and hypernutrienization of the gulf of mexico

My parents always told me ...

that I was intelligent and it is a pity to waste it trivially

My childhood ambition ...

to become a neuropathologist(yes, as a child...)

My favorite memory ...

sitting in my grandmother's beehouse and smelling honey

Why I write ...

it is my driving force, writing is my way to exorcise my demons

What I am reading/watching/listening to ...

I am re-reading "Memoirs of a Geisha," and listening to the new Shins Release

My first job ...

was as an apprentice electrician

My best moment ...

being invited by the leader of an activist organisation I am a member of to speak at the national convention

My inspiration ...

almost anything inspires me, it is how I use that inspiration is what makes it worthwhile

Creative Writing > Short Stories Short stories: Grief

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The summer breeze made the wind-chimes sing lightly a melody of their own design. The music was somber and quiet, but it had been like that for so long now I don't know how I even noticed. The whole world has become quiet, eerily so, and some days I imagine that I can even hear the wind blowing the chimes of houses nearer to him, if those people have chimes, or houses. In that foreign place where the world is dry and hot and the winds that blow are only dusty siroccos, he is half a world away from me, and it feels farther. You could tell me that he is on the moon and the tug of distance wo...

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