Cue up the instructions for deep breathing and punching air

I rarely have a “bad day” or at least I’m usually able to put a positive spin on days that might not really be that close to good, but today rubbed me all kinds of the wrong way and was, for laziness of a better word, a bad day. I feel anxious and a bit stressed and scatterbrained and a little more frustrated with myself than is my typical state of being. I feel a tension and inner struggle boiling over that yoga and walking in the sun isn’t enough to subdue, though it normally is.

What’s really been eating at me for months is the fact that I have this uncanny lack of focus and direction in life and yet have a desire to dream up plans and mark maps with the routes to take. I’ll paint it like this: there’s me, this little, excited girl, lost in a forest, and instead of taking the man-made path that must lead to somewhere, I choose to run around in circles. This is a terrible analogy, but I’m tired writing and these things happen. The point I’m trying to make is that I’m overwhelmed with the possibilities of what I could do in my not-so-distant future and yet I somehow feel trapped because I don’t know what lead to follow, what path to take, which way to go. And this is only partially true, because given the state of the economy/job market/everyone’s favorite topic, I really don’t know if any of my possible routes will get me anywhere at all.

The processes my brain goes through just to consider where I might want to spend the next two, three, x years of my life is exhausting. And so then there’s me again, only this time I’m not in the woods, I’m just in a room with my stare blank ahead and my mind imagining my head hitting against the wall, again and again.



300 Words

I’ve been assigned a lot of 300 word pieces lately and from that developed a frustration to be precise and brief.

Most of what I’ve been writing in recent months has been about music and, as much as I do enjoy writing on the topic, I’ve grown to greatly miss the simple pleasure of writing short stories, microfiction and little poems. For whatever reason I haven’t been giving myself enough time to focus on writing. This is mostly because I’m busy traveling and getting to know Prague, but I think that is more of an excuse than anything else.

Fortunately, I managed to write something short, 300 words to be exact, that I can’t quite decide if I like or not. So, rather than continue posting more of my commonplace blather, I’m getting back into the swing of things. Here is some writing, you decide if it’s shit or not.


For me, 300 words come close to nothing. Simple, inexhaustible scrabbling of words that are supposed to be important, somehow. Maybe for somebody else, 300 words stand as something significant, substantial, perhaps even noteworthy. Personally, I’d really like to meet that somebody because with 300 words I could force them into loving me.


And, when you’re so desperate, so painstakingly desperate, to feel something real, anything real, 300 words may be all you really need.

With these 300 words I will touch you, violate your senses and spark a fiery flow that will overpower your numbing sense of being. You will lose control and cling to that sensation of being lost. Your mundane routine will morph into an intriguing mystery and you will finally be the protagonist in your own romantic tale.


I will tickle your laughter and manipulate your pain into forgetting. I will seduce you with promises and you will believe, clutching to them tightly. My 300 words will remind you what it feels like to breathe again and teach you how to destroy each and every single day with your whole heart.


The air will become vibrant, full of light, and the colors in your life will quickly become alive. In 300 words you will know what love is and you will love me because you’ve grown familiar with the idea of love. After 300 words you will understand passion and reality will feel more like fantasy.


Sometimes I will make you scream. Other times I will make you cry. But, through it all, you will find comfort in the 300 words I write. In the end, it won’t take much for me to set you on fire and just when you thought you could never quite grasp love, I will seize you.