Melancholy & Missing Lighters

  I hate how I've let the world's expectations of my age change me. I hate that I've allowed myself to be backed into a corner. Somehow, I feel as though I need to be wholly original. Inspiration drawn from other sources must be minimal and accurate. But is not every trope, story, and belief built off another? Are not we entwined with our past? What is the purpose of originality if it is meant to remain within boundaries and never be played with again? These bodies our not immortal, so our thoughts will have to do. ... I often wrestle with my thoughts, who I am and who I want to be. This blog, for example, is an attempt to give these battles of mine the space to breathe; the sort of space you're hard-pressed to find on a social media platform. Instagram, Tumblr, Twitter, Facebook, YouTube, and so many others where users seem to be screaming over each other in a desperate attempt to be heard. Influencers and wannabes plaster on bright masks, even in serious, depres...

  Artist:  Kumiko T. Johnson Do you ever exist? Just take up space, In a transitional place. Do you sit or stand, On concrete pathways, Just soaking up time, As all the world passes by? Do your nerves and skin sink, Beneath the thoughts you think? Are the people staring, As they put their bus fare in? What right have you to dwell, Upon man's concrete shell? For what is the earth, But undeveloped turf? For what is consciousness, But a means for business? So -- Do you even exist?

Since it's about a week before we get more foodies, and we're at a train yard in the middle of nowhere with only a pocketful of change and bare bare minimum food, I figured I'd share what I cook during these situations. What I've got available to me right now are a couple packs of ramen noodles, a little bag of instant rice pilaf, and a package of American cheese slices (which we'd spent most of our change on before walking out here). But the one lifesaving key ingredient I always keep at the bottom of my pack is a package of complete pancake mix. I find that it's more versatile than just plain flour, as in, I don't need to have quite so many other ingredients on hand to accomplish certain dishes. One of the dishes I utilize the pancake mix for is flour soup. It goes by other names as well, such as toasted flour soup and browned flour soup. I'm not certain of its origins, though I suspect it's roots are Germanic. Regardless, it's a souper (ha...

 ...In Memory of Pinky, Marlene, Jimbo, & Lerch... It wasn't true, It was a mistake, I was sure their words were fake, It is impossible, That after silent years, My thanks would not grace your ears, I would be sure to tell you as well, How relieved I am of their fallacy, How foolishly I believed, For now, from coast to coast, Fallen from their hand, Your ashes coat the land.

 Another friend of mine has passed away recently. He was the third loved one of mine to die in 2023 so far. I hadn't spoken to him in nearly four years. Not due to any disharmony, simply due to the fact that the two of us hadn't crossed paths since 2019. During the time we hung out together in 2019, he had been a kind friend who helped me laugh and reach out to other people when I was feeling uncertain and vulnerable. I never told him how I grateful I was for his support. But, I didn't realize how strongly I appreciated him until I saw the Facebook post announcing his death. I didn't believe it at first. I figured he had gotten drunk off his ass and simply lost his phone, leaving the door open for absurd rumours to spread. I was given a fright, but I was still certain it was a mistake. I had intended to ask around, and once given confirmation that he was not in fact dead, I would send him a message for him to get back to me whenever he could. I realized I had wasted tim...