Why does the dark gentle warmth of bed
give me the only true calm I’ve ever known?
Is it that bed is day’s open and close?
the revelatory jolt of awakening
the blissful surrender to sleep
Is it that bed resembles life’s open and close?
the one true safe space of my mother’s womb
the calm embrace of the grave
Is bed simply a peek into the future
into the blissful emptiness that awaits us all?
Why do I go to bed when
I’m sick of myself?
when I wish to no longer be a person?
Is it simply that bed
asks nothing of me?
Is it simply that bed
is the only thing in life that ever gives freely
What is the nature of the overwhelming
pull I feel to that liminal space?
Is it merely human’s innate desire for entropy
that makes me fall headfirst into your covers’ folds
and smash my face upon your downy pillows
and dig my feet into your springy surface
and lay there
until tomorrow’s bittersweet dawn?
Is bed’s appeal merely the swift entropy of falling
or is it what comes after--
Is it that bed would be there for me all day?
if I asked it to
if I needed it
if I felt I had no choice
Or is it simply that I am forced to live this life
that bed always seems sweeter than wherever I am?
Is it that bed is the only thing
that forgives me for being human
and lets me pretend I am otherwise?
Whenever I’d rather not exist
my bed is there to grant my wish.
YO Happy Legalization Day to all my Virginia friends! I still can't believe this is actually happening.
Learning about weed and realizing how much good it did for my mind and body was one of my first steps in realizing that I had been taught a lot of wrong things as a kid. For those who don't know, here is an article that outlines exactly how and why marijuana got the reputation it did in America almost a century ago. Heads up: This is not the only thing you've been lied to about by the government.
When I was in college, I got chronic terrible migraines, the kind that made any aspect of living impossible. I had medication that made me sick in other ways: one medication made me puke, another gave me a solid 4-5 hours of dizziness and mindfog before the migraine would eventually hopefully go away. Even sleeping through the migraine was a hard ask. The only relief I could get was weed; the only way I could endure my very strong medication was weed. When I awoke with a migraine, I would take my medication, smoke a bowl, and be able to go back to sleep until I would hopefully awake feeling better. On days when I couldn't just go back to bed, weed is what took the edge off enough that I could rise, dress, and get where I needed to go.
I've always had problems with my emotional processing (Cancer sign baby!). Throughout my life, the presence of my feelings has gotten in the way of me resolving interpersonal issues. You know -- I'd be ready to make nice, but my heart would still be burning with anger, embarrassment, etc. I have a really hard time getting rid of feelings once they're there, even if my mind is sensibly asking me to calm down. This emotional fire prevents me from being able to just let resolution happen. But weed helps me calm down and take a step back so I can approach conflict resolution in a way that's healthy and productive. When I feel the fire rising inside me, a bit of the other kind of fire helps me cool off.
I've met nearly all of my friends through weed, even those who no longer blaze. Weed is an inherently communal substance. It's better with friends. It lends itself to sharing. It's not expensive, it's not dangerous, it's not coveted, and so when there's some, it gets shared. Having weed in common is more than enough to start a new relationship even when you have nothing else in common. I appreciate and value all of the wonderful people that weed has brought into my life, not only in college (though particularly in college), but since then as well.
For over a decade, weed has been a pillar of my life. It's been part of my daily routine. It's helped me wind down after work, get over hangovers, sit through terrible movies, endure a year of self-isolation. I understand that some people don't like smoking weed, and some others are better off not smoking it. But I've been able to be an extremely high-functioning stoner for over a decade, and this is just who I am now.
For over a decade, one of the pillars of my life has been illegal. Buying weed illegally was infantilizing, humiliating, frustrating, time-consuming, and at times dangerous. It felt bad to be put in a position where I had to break the law to imbibe something natural, helpful, healthful -- and there's plenty of science behind that. It never made sense that I could legally black out from vodka shots but I couldn't legally medicate my migraines or vibe out on the couch with my friends. Furthermore, weed being illegal for so long has put me in the same room as a lot of people I would rather have never met -- you know, the kind of people who are super willing to traffic illegal substances.
When I went to my first dispensary in Denver, I cried. To be treated like a regular ass person making a legitimate purchase -- like blazing was a normal, everyday thing -- like I was an adult making informed and sensible decisions -- it totally changed my perspective. This isn't about a weed takeover. It's not about everyone being stoned off their asses all the time. It's about respect: respect for adults to make their own choices, and respect for the Earth and all the natural wonders provides for us.
I know I still have friends and family who have yet to unlearn all the anti-weed propaganda that's been plaguing our country for almost a century. I hope the legalization of this wonderful, multi-faceted herb helps to open people's eyes to all it can do for others, even if they personally don't like it.
If you have questions, please don't hesitate to reach out to me.
I won’t mince words here:
BACKING UP YOUR WORK IS RIDICULOUSLY IMPORTANT.
In reality, there are no excuses for not backing your stuff up. It’s incredibly easy to do, and the pain of losing any amount of work is not worth the laziness.
When I worked on The Last Ginger, I was not good about saving. Last year my old laptop died with the entirety of my novel trapped on it, no recognizable draft in existence elsewhere. That was downright moronic of me.
Luckily I was able to grab the good old hard drive and all was well. But here I am a year later, and I accidentally saved my shiz in some funky format because I AM TECHNOLOGICALLY CHALLENGED. This time I lost a month’s worth of the painstaking, miniscule edits that are a part of the finalization process. (Shoot me in the face plz.)
Lesson learned, finally.
I don’t care how new your device is or how much technological prowess you have. If you value your craft and the words that flow from your fingers, you will protect what you create. Back the stuff up.
Here are ways to back up your files:
On an external hard drive. I have one Frankensteined from my old laptop ( ❤ RIP) that holds a billion everythings. As much as a computer holds.
On a flash drive. These are like two bucks man. They’re easily lost (which is my issue) but also easy to manage and have on you all the time. Get one. Or seven. They’re only two bucks man.
Google Drive or some other cloud-based service. The cloud is free, man. (I always feel like I’m trying too hard when I use the term “the cloud.”) Every single night before you rest your precious little head to rest, upload your stuff to your Google account. Even if you haven’t written that day. Just to stay in the habit.
On another device. I don’t know anything about any devices other than the ones I’ve already talked about!
Now go back up your damn files. Do you have a lost work horror story? Tell me in the comments!
I began reading this book having been told it was like Star Wars meets Lord of the Rings. Even with those impossibly high comparisons, Dune blew my mind.
It’s the story of Paul, a duke’s son, whose family is sent to rule the desert planet of Arrakis. Arrakis has no water, no large civilizations — nothing but sand and spice, everyone’s favorite drug. When the duke is overthrown and replaced by his enemies, Paul hides out in the deep desert with the local Fremen and learns that the arid planet nicknamed Dune has many layers of meaning.
The people of Arrakis worship water, living their daily lives in suits designed to recycle their bodily moisture and rendering down their dead, because “The flesh belongs to the man; the water belongs to the tribe.” They live with a sort of desert mysticism, a science-cum-faith that indicates at a strong and ancient culture.
Paul himself is involved in a different sort of pseudo-magic. Trained by his mother since birth in the ways of the Bene Gesserit, a sisterhood whose ultimate purpose is mysteriously “to serve," Paul is skilled in extraordinary observation and manipulation. He is destined to be the Muad’Dib, the Lisan al-Gaib, the Kwisatz Haderach. He fulfills prophetic roles in more than one faith and develops the ability to see the future — although chaotically.
This is the basic story, but it’s as intricate as fantasy series powerhouses like A Song of Ice and Fire or Lord of the Rings. There’s so much I didn’t mention: the sandworms, the emperor, the Fremen, and all of the incredibly dynamic and unique characters. Only so much can be conveyed in a blog post.
The book was definitely as confusing as Lord of the Rings, where most of the time you know what’s going on and sometimes you just have to go along with the confusing stuff, and then when you’re almost at the end you realize there’s many appendices you could have been using the whole time. At times I had to reread passages or pages to make sure I understood or to confirm that I didn’t understand their meaning. However, very little of the story itself was lost to me on these little hiccups. And using the glossary definitely helps.
It’s hard to say what this book is like, because it’s unlike any other book I’ve read before. The Star Wars/Lord of the Rings comparison is good because aesthetically it definitely reminded me of Star Wars — the faded, clunky technology and peculiar landscapes and creatures. The story itself is more Lord of the Rings, inasmuch as it narrates the regaining of a lost throne, involves great journeys, and is so saturated in subtle mystics and complex fantasy cultures that the reader is sure the author has written much on the subjects that he hasn’t published.
All in all, read this book. If you like science fiction or fantasy, read this, as it certainly appeals to both categories. A story that will latch itself onto your heart; characters you love and mourn; layers of faith and feeling that will change how you see the world; an adventure unlike any other.
You sleep all day,
you sleep all night.
You sleep right through
the morning light.
You sleep right here;
you sleep over there,
You sleep all day
without a care.
You sleep on purses
And on laptops
You sleep on my
clean pants and tops.
You might try to awake
for a moment or two,
but soon you realize
you’re too sleepy to.
You sleep like a baby,
or rather, like a cat,
and the cat nap will become
a short baby nap.
You sleep on your back
Or tucked in a ball.
To all cats, a good sleep
and a good sleep to all.