Somebody once told me that if I wanted to be a good writer, all I had to do was be silent and it would just come to me. The problem was, I didn’t know how to be silent.

I read through comments, and see the vitriol and viciousness that good people become when they think up a punishment for people’s transgressions. In those moments, how are we really any different than the subject of our hatred?

A funny thing happens when you first learn that you are going to die, time suddenly warps out of scope and ideas that once seem impossible take on a totally different realm of possibility.

  Date:02/13/2015 7:25 AM (GMT-05:00) To: Zendigity Subject: Purchase Inquiry. I previously sent you an inquiry regarding your works but didn’t get a response from you. Advise back if you ship to Elliniko, Athens Island and…

She thinks she’s plain; I think she’s fascinating. She thinks she’s ugly; I think the way her eyes sparkle when she smiles is adorable. She thinks she’s fat; I love the way her body feels beside…

As you step upon your soapbox and cast me into hell, let me stop you for a moment to ask you a very important question.  How is this not about your ego?  How is this…