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Some words from me about words from someone else that can probably word better than me.
Coming Soon.
Random collection of miscellaneous creative writing, because it feels good to just make things up sometimes.
Professionally Speaking
I do marketing for a living. And I have some thoughts about it!
Eventually. There’s nothing here right now.
Punk Rock: Louder Than Noise
A lot of people love punk because of the culture’s DIY ethos. Its ability to forge makers and creators, and to help people find and foster their own voices. I never made anything though; not a band or a song or a zine. I didn’t love it because it let me create. I loved it because it gave me the strength to exist.
When Worlds Collide
For my 30th, a capital ‘M’ Milestone, I celebrated by making a bunch of my friends dress up in masks out in public at a Brooklyn bar. I sent out my 20s in a fit of ridiculousness, which is really the only way to handle these moments. It wasn’t my first big birthday, of course, and for me it’s hardly my most memorable.
Take, for instance, my 18th.
Costs of Doing Business
Salem Song stopped quickly and tucked herself tight against a shadowed wall as a door ahead burst open, light and voices spilling into the dim street. A mass of three people stumbled out, boozy laughter rolling out from them, breaking the silence of the otherwise deserted street. Past them she saw her quarry look back as well, startled at the sudden noise and possible attention. The heavy man paused long enough to see them walk toward a car parked in front of the building. He seemed, for a split second, to look past them, toward her in the darkness, then turned and continued on his way.
Ribbadon: Holiest of Holies
There are those that will jokingly make a religion of meat. The folks that will smirk and label themselves “meatatarian” when offered anything leafy and green. Much like the competitive eaters who gorge themselves for the sake of personal glory or prizes, the non-serious meat follower does not know the true depth of meat devotion.
For the truly devout; the true adherents of the meat arts there is Ribbadon.
Lola’s House
Visits to grandma were the best. Whenever I was there she never had to go to work. Or run errands. Or take care of something else. It wasn’t like home. She would play if I wanted or tell stories or make snacks.
She would make me call her lola, and I forgot sometimes, but if I did she just laughed and hugged me.
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