From Facebook today via Subhan Schenker: all problems are psychological, all solutions are spiritual.
I've been thinking about the narrative inside my head. Self talk. Inner monologue, whatever.
The voice interpreting my day, casting an emotional spin on events, interpreting another's body language.
I live in my own universe and you live in yours. We visit each other. Intimacy for me is feeling welcome in another person's universe, realizing I have a place in it, my spot on the couch.
Since this time last week I've been in five different states. If that ain't metaphorical, I don't know what is.
The work ugly has made me re-examine, re-think, question my motives, doubt myself.
How could I not have known this malevolence was bubbling along?
But the thing is--I did know. I had evidence. Reportage. Comments and looks and evictions.
The thing about red flags is I almost always ignore them. I make the same dumb mistakes, over and over.
I ignore the obvious and then obsess over the minute. What did she mean with that look? Why do they always turn down my invitations? He says he cares about me but does he really? It shows a lack of trust, I know that. Trust in myself, trust in another. In some ways I'm still this little kid looking for approval. It's inside. Learn that. Remember that. It's inside.
There's a shadow constantly hovering at my shoulder. For all my gallivanting into the social whirl, nevermind the positive social media...
Ever wondered what it takes to get a piece of fiction published? I'm not talking New Yorker type of prose. That's a rarefied world ...
Check out my new video, a brief reading from a story published this past spring in Opossum.
Welp, after a half-year experiment in social media, BSP has returned to its blogger roots. I hated Faceborkland, tbh. Sure, it was easier t...