Dispatches from the Goblin City

  Better question: why not goblins?  I've been trying to explain the...er... architecture of my mind for years and coming up with nothing. Nada. Zilch. I wish I had a mind palace, or some orderly looking mansion to house all of my thoughts and beliefs.  I wish I could say my mind is like an elven city, a la Rivendell. But that's entirely too tranquil. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE tranquility, but that's not my brain's default setting. No, my mind is like the Goblin City from "Labyrinth." You know, the cult classic Bowie/muppet fantasy from the 80s. Remember the battle for the city near the end of the movie? Yeah, that's a pretty good representation of how my brain functions. Most of my thoughts are loud and hyper; like someone has been dosing my goblins with caffeine and meth. Imagine that Jim Henson added a rave to the Goblin City and that's kind of what my brain feels like to me. It can be exhausting, but these are the cards I have been dealt. I fi...

I have rebooted this blog many times, but I lose steam after ONE post and disappear for 2 years or so. Rinse, repeat. But I'm sick of that habit. Truly. I want to be better. I deserve to be better. My creativity (which feels like it is on life support) deserves better. So this is me, trying to become a better writer. And a better human being in general. I'm not a disciplined writer anymore, not that I was ever really disciplined. I just had a better habit of writing in the evenings when I was still in college. Once I dropped out I let that good habit fall to the wayside. I let depression rob me of my passion for the written word. I fell out of love with writing. I let depression tell me I was just a talentless hack who would never amount to anything in this life. I believed  the lie. I became the lie. I stopped writing in mid 2016; I stopped fighting to find a reason to write. I silenced my own voice. And all the while my depression raged on, growing louder than ever and I had ...