Category: Echoes of a Journey

Echoes of a Journey: Another Year Gone By

December 23rd, 2025

Floating.

That’s what 2025 felt like. Not moving forward or backward, just suspended. Days passed, then weeks, then somehow an entire year. I streamed. I taught classes. I wrote a novel. On paper, it looks productive, even impressive. In reality, it all blurred together, rushing by so quickly that I’m still trying to figure out where I was for most of it.

There’s a fog over my mind; one that’s mostly out of my control. Early in the year, I was diagnosed as bipolar. It wasn’t a shock so much as a strange sense of clarity. Looking back, a lot of moments in my life suddenly made sense. Patterns I’d never quite noticed before fell into place, completing a puzzle I didn’t know I was assembling. There was relief in having a name for it, but also fear. A diagnosis doesn’t magically give you control, it just explains why control has always felt so fragile. That clarity didn’t come with answers, only a better understanding of why so many parts of my life have always felt just out of reach.

There’s a lot I wish I had more say in. Consistent work. Health care. Relationships. Stability. The basics most people take for granted. Instead, life seems determined to push me down a path I didn’t plan for and didn’t exactly choose. Some days I accept that. Other days it feels like being carried by a current with no chance to swim back to shore.

I’ve applied to countless jobs, all within the fields of writing, education, and theatre. So far, a few interviews but no bites. I’m grateful I had work early in the year, truly. Being busy gave structure to my days and quieted the constant noise in my head. Teaching is the greatest honor of my life, and I wish I could land a consistent position.

The last few months, though, have been odd. The time I’ve had to write has been a gift, something I don’t take lightly, but it comes with an uneasy tradeoff. While the words are flowing, everything else feels like it’s slipping further behind, like I’m moving forward in one narrow lane, going below the speed limit, while the rest of life rushes past me.

When I look at friends, I see milestones stacking neatly into place, relationships, careers, the rhythm of everyday life. When I look at myself, I see only what didn’t work. The failure of Japan. The lack of meaningful relationships. Isolation.

I’m 35, and floating.

And still, I’m here. Being diagnosed later in life didn’t fix everything, but it gave me something solid to stand on: the knowledge that I can handle this. Even on depressive days, like today. Even through the highs that feel overwhelming. All of it is part of me, and none of it disqualifies me from a full, meaningful life.

I may not have a consistent job right now, but I’m still working toward one. I may not have many eyes on my novel today, but tomorrow someone might find it and feel less alone because of it. The future isn’t clear, and a lot of it is out of my control, but that doesn’t mean it’s empty.

So, I choose to look for the brightness. I choose to keep writing, keep teaching when I can, keep believing that this floating isn’t failure, it’s a season that pass. Hope doesn’t erase the fog, but it gives me a direction to walk in.

And for now, that’s enough.

So, onward to 2026.
Echoes of a Journey: Late Reflections on Japan, Where to Go Now

November 26th, 2025

It’s been a while since I dived into Echoes of a Journey. Life has a way of pulling you in a dozen directions at once, and sometimes the past just sits there, waiting for you to turn around and really look at it.

We’re coming up on two years since my brief time in Japan.

Two years.

There’s no regret about going to Japan, and no regret about coming back. Both choices came from honest places, even if the outcomes weren’t what was imagined at the time. While living there, the ache for my pups never really left. My dogs are pretty much my entire world. Leaving them, even temporarily, felt like leaving a part of myself behind.
Being back in the United States these last two years, a different kind of longing has settled in.

The life that started to take shape in Japan eats at me; what could have been. There was a quiet peace to the daily routine in Okinawa. Most days were spent walking everywhere, learning the streets and corners, moving through the busyness on the way to work. Recently, while playing a game, the distinct sound of a Japanese crosswalk chimed through my headphones, and it hit how much that tiny sound had become stitched into daily life.

Since coming back, a hard truth has been impossible to ignore: life in Okinawa never really got a fair chance. It was one of those situations you don’t fully understand until it’s gone. The belief at the time was, “If it’s not perfect right away, something is wrong,” and only later comes the realization that of course it wasn’t perfect. It was brand new.

And here we are, two years later.

Where I Stumbled

Looking back, it’s easy to see all the places I got in my own way.

On the surface, life in Okinawa was simple. There was a routine, a job, a place to live. Inside, things were much less steady. The stumble came early, and recovery from that first wobble never quite happened. The move was fueled by a vague dream but not much of a plan beyond, “This will be a cool new chapter of my life.” The weight of homesickness, the depth of missing my dogs, and the particular kind of isolation that comes from being surrounded by people yet feeling on the outside of everything… those realities weren’t fully considered.

Despite speaking some Japanese, curiosity shrank in ways that were surprising. The imagined version of myself explored every street, tried every café, joined every little local event. The real version often stayed in the confines of his apartment, unable to leave out of fear.

Exploration felt impossible, especially on days when everything felt overwhelming, exhausting, or just… off.

I put pressure on myself to “get it right” immediately with the Japanese I knew. When I didn’t know how to say something or what to do, the instinct was to retreat instead of asking, instead of fumbling through, instead of allowing myself to be a beginner. Deeply ironic, considering how often students were encouraged to stumble and fumble their way through English without shame, while that same grace was never extended inward.

There were practical missteps too: money stress, not building a strong support system, and not creating routines that nurtured life outside of work. None of these made Okinawa unlivable, but together they made everything feel much heavier than it needed to be.

If I’m honest, there were days it felt like failure was just waiting around the next corner. And when you move through the world expecting to fail, it’s easy to find ways to prove yourself right.

If a redo were possible, it would be an easy “yes.” I would go back to give it another go. But life rarely hands out neat, clean second chances in the same place, with the same people, at the same stage of life. That version of Japan is gone. That version of me is gone too. What’s left is the work of sitting with what happened and learning from it.

What I Learned from Leaving

It turns out a life abroad is possible for me, but it has to be built with more intention.

Community, self-care, and staying connected to the people (and pups) who matter cannot be afterthoughts. Missing home and loving a new place can live side by side, and that tension doesn’t mean failure. Leaving a country doesn’t mean leaving problems behind. Run away from them in one place, and they’ll be waiting in the next, jet lag and all. The work of understanding patterns, anxiety, and needs doesn’t vanish just because the scenery changes.

Through all of it, one thing stayed steady: teaching still feels right. That moment when a student feels seen and supported, when a concept finally lands or discovers something, remained one of the few things that felt solid and true. Those moments were the most perfect in all the chaos and doubt that taunted me in Japan.

Here’s the surprising part, despite leaving Japan due to my personal insecurities, the desire to teach abroad never left. When I think about the future, teaching abroad still comes to mind like a small lantern in the dark that refuses to go out. Returning to Japan someday would be wonderful, but there’s also a pull toward other places and cultures, a curiosity about what life might look like elsewhere.

China, in particular, keeps tugging at the imagination. Part of that pull is practical. Opportunities for ESL teachers still exist, with different regions and school environments to explore. The rest is emotional. There’s a real urge to see who I can be in a new place with eyes wide open this time, not half-closed by fear and self-doubt.

Moving Forward, Not Backward

Japan didn’t work out the way I hoped. That’s the simple version. It held up a mirror and showed who I was when completely unmoored. He was scared, lonely, and overwhelmed, but he was trying. He got on the plane. He showed up to class. He walked unfamiliar streets. He did the best he could with the tools he had at the time.

Maybe, someday soon, China will offer new experiences to explore. Or something else entirely will take me on a completely different journey.

Until then, reflection and planning continue quietly in the background, getting ready for the day the bags are packed again, not to escape this life, but to expand it. The exact destination and the faces waiting there are still unknown, but there’s a growing confidence that, wherever the next chapter lands, it will be faced with more honesty, more intention, and a little more grace.
Rewinding to Move Forward

August 26th, 2025

Since COVID, I’ve lived with a screen always within reach. Netflix, Disney+, Hulu, Prime Video. Each one a glowing portal to somewhere else. Somewhere easier. Somewhere quieter. When boredom crept in, I didn’t wrestle with it. I streamed it away. A show to fill the silence. A movie to dull the ache. A binge to blur the days and let time slip unnoticed.
It became second nature. The background hum of content was constant, always something queued, always a distraction waiting. And I told myself it was normal, that everyone did it. But I wasn’t consuming for joy. I wasn’t watching because I cared about the artistry of filmmaking or the craft of storytelling. I was numbing myself. Pressing play so I wouldn’t have to sit still with my own thoughts and insecurities.

When the world shut down, the days were long, unstructured, and uncertain. The streaming queue was always there. It was easier to live inside someone else’s narrative than face the ambiguity of my own. It didn’t matter what I watched, only that some sort of noise kept me company.

Recently, that cycle broke, not because I wanted it to, but because I had to. Joblessness has a way of forcing you into brutal honesty about what matters and what doesn’t. Subscriptions I once considered essential became luxuries I could no longer justify. One by one they vanished. Netflix gone. Disney+ kicked to the curb. Hulu a relic of the past. And Amazon Prime (all of it) let go. And when they were gone, I realized how much I had been leaning on them. Not for inspiration. Not for genuine enjoyment. But as escape hatches.

At first, the silence was uncomfortable. I hadn’t realized how often I reached for my phone just to fill a pause in thought, or how instinctively I opened a streaming app when I felt restless. Without the constant hum of background noise, I felt exposed. The quiet pressed in, and I didn’t know what to do with it.

But slowly, that discomfort began to shift. Without the noise, I started noticing things I hadn’t in a long time. My thoughts became clear. My patterns and habits noticeable. Sparks of curiosity and creatively became more frequent. What surprised me most wasn’t the loss of new content. It was what resurfaced from the past.

Several months ago, out of nowhere, Burnie Burns revived Rooster Teeth. The website returned, the community spaces reopened, and the deep archive of content was made available again. Out of curiosity, I pressed play on the RT Podcast again, after years away.
And suddenly, I was back in familiar territory. Burnie, Gus, Gavin, Barb—their voices filled my headphones, the same blend of chaos and banter that had carried me through so many phases of my life. I expected nostalgia, maybe even a little bittersweetness. What I didn’t expect was the deep sense of perspective it gave me.

For more than a decade, Rooster Teeth had been a part of my life. From my senior year of high school through college and into my early jobs, it was a constant presence. Their podcasts, shows, and community gave me a place to laugh, to belong, and sometimes even to escape. I loved it so much that from 2017 to 2019, I volunteered as a Guardian at RTX, their convention in Austin. It wasn’t just entertainment; it was a second home online.

But like so many things, my connection faded with time. By 2020, I had drifted away. COVID forced my attention toward grad school and survival. The company itself was going through changes that made it feel different, less like the community I had grown up with. When Rooster Teeth shut down in 2024, I felt the pang of an ending, but it seemed inevitable.

Listening to the RT podcast again wasn’t about trying to live in the past. It was about recognizing how much I had changed since I first heard those voices. Their jokes and tangents reminded me of who I was at seventeen, or twenty-three, or twenty-seven. I remembered the stress of late-night study sessions, the excitement of graduating, the fear and thrill of moving cross-country for work. Back then, their content was my lifeline.

Now, I could hear it with different ears, as someone who had grown, stumbled, and changed in ways I never could have predicted.

That’s the strange gift of revisiting old loves: they don’t stay the same, and neither do we. Walking back into them is like stepping into a room from your childhood home. The walls, the light, and the chipped paint. But you notice details you never saw before. You stand in the same place, but you realize you’re no longer the same person who stood there years ago.

And maybe that’s the real lesson. Change is not something to fear. It’s necessary. We’re not meant to cling forever to the things that once defined us. But sometimes revisiting them shows us just how far we’ve come. Rooster Teeth isn’t the centerpiece of my life anymore. And that’s okay. What it gives me now is different; it’s a reminder that growth doesn’t erase the past. It builds on it.

Cutting out endless streaming cleared the space for me to see this. I don’t need constant distractions to move forward. What I need is perspective. A reminder that life is motion, and that I’ve already lived through so many versions of myself. Revisiting the past isn’t about getting stuck there; it’s about realizing that growth is possible, that change is inevitable, and that both can be good.

I don’t know exactly what the next version of me looks like. But I know there will be one. And when I get there, maybe I’ll look back at today the way I looked back at Rooster Teeth: with gratitude, perspective, and the understanding that change, however uncomfortable, is always worth it.

I freed myself of a cycle to grow. Now, I write more than I ever did before. What is the next decade going to look like as I continue to discover new paths?
August Update & Announcement!

August 1st, 2025
Update: I changed the schedule! Please see below!

I’ve started a Patreon. If you click on the World of Kaladoum tab up top, it will take you to the Patreon! Due to this, my stories will no longer be posted on the website. Instead, all stories will find life via Patreon. The generous support of others will fund all my stories and novels. I have no expectation that anyone will subscribe and support. I have no built-in community. I’m exploring the option and will put all my content there whether I have 0 or 1,000 folks supporting. Again, I have no expectations… Only hope that someone, somewhere, will discover and enjoy the stories I create. If it works, great. If not, at least I’m creating, writing, and learning.

This website’s focus now is to have a place for blogs and to showcase my resume and writing portfolio (found in the About & Contact section). Echoes of a Journey and Musings of a Steamer will still be active with once-a-month posts for each. They aren’t going anywhere. I still need a place to vent my thoughts that isn’t controlled by a character count.

My goal with Echoes and Musings is to provide deeper looks and reflections on my journey through life and streaming. Echoes of a Journey will focus on my personal and professional life, while Musings of a Streamer will continue to explore topics within content creation. Making these both once a month (rather than a weekly serialized reflection) is to expand on ideas and topics. Previously, the target word-count for Musings was 400-800 words, and for Echoes was 250-500 words. However, I have set new goals.

New Target for both: 750+ words.

The schedule:
- New Musings of a Streamer on the second Tuesday of the month.
- New Echoes of a Journey on the last Tuesday of the month.
My Patreon is the place to go if you’re interested in reading fantasy and sci-fi! Being a follower gives access to the first four updated chapters of The Lavender Knight, and all future projects!

Thank you so much for all of your support. Onward to finishing the year in a positive state of mind!
Changes to the Website

July 18th, 2025
This is a general update post for this week! I have a lot brewing in the background that’s going to shake a few things up as I take my lack of unemployment by the head and control my own journey a bit better. Now, onward to the update!
1. The Lavender Knight has been removed from the website, as has my archive. This is due to the shake up that is coming on August 1, 2025.
2. Starting in August, Echoes of a Journey will be twice a month. I struggle to find something to write about every week, which is why I found myself in a loop of basically saying the same thing over again in a lot of posts. My hope is to avoid that by releasing Echoes twice a month.
  - Rough idea for release schedule:
    The first and third Friday of the month will have an Echoes of a Journey!
3. Due to the shake up, there will not be an Echoes next week.
4. I dunno why I used bullet points for this.
That’s about it for the update! I will have more info on August 1st for all the changes and where you can find The Lavender Knight going forward!
XBOX: Lost Faith

July 11th, 2025

Last week, Microsoft laid off 9,000 employees. The layoffs hit the Xbox brand especially hard. Studios shuttered. Games canceled. Familiar calls to fire Phil Spencer echoed across social media, an almost ritualistic response at this point that, while warranted, will ultimately fizzle out. Amid it all that confusion, frustration, and chaos, Phil had the nerve to say the future was bright for Xbox and that he appreciated the hard work of those who were let go.

Of course he said that. He has shareholders to appease. But appreciation doesn’t pay rent. It doesn’t erase the sting of being told your work, your passion, is no longer needed. I’ve been on the receiving end of that kind of decision. It’s not fun. No matter how eloquent the farewell memo, it doesn’t make anyone walk away with their head held high.

Alas, we live in a capitalistic society that prioritizes profits over people. Xbox and Microsoft are doing what every other company does and will inevitably do; cut costs to keep the money flowing and the shareholders smiling. The video game business is expensive as hell. AAA production budgets are ballooning into the stratosphere, and Xbox is no exception. What sets it apart, though, is Phil Spencer’s face-forward approach. He’s the talking point. The excitement. He makes you believe in the brand and the product.

And that’s the problem now: belief.

Phil cultivated a reputation that made people believe in Xbox again. After the missteps of the Xbox One era, he became the symbol of a comeback story. But after years of promises, delays, and cancelations, how much longer can gamers continue to believe in the vision he touts?

I was, at one time, an Xbox fanboy. The original Xbox was my first console outside of a Gameboy. From 2001 to now, I’ve always had an Xbox. I own a Series S and subscribe to Game Pass. And as long as the console continues to support backwards compatibility, I’ll keep getting whatever comes next. My digital library includes games from the OG Xbox. I have titles that don’t run well on PC without heavy modification or aren’t available at all. Xbox remains the logical choice for me for games I want to go back and play from my teenage years.

But I’ve lost faith in Xbox.

The brand. The product. The faces that present themselves as a supportive figure. My desire to keep a gaming library notwithstanding, I gravitate to PC more and more. Gone are the days where I would spend hours on my Xbox. I spend most of my time on the PC. And while I do think Game Pass is fantastic, I’m using it less and less. When I think of Xbox, it’s more nostalgia than current love.

Xbox is not what it once was to me. As much as I would like to believe in Phil, I do not believe in Microsoft. It’s unfortunate that lack of faith trickles down to Phil and the brand I spent years supporting. Not that I’m done with Xbox, I’m just disappointed, jaded, and continue to wonder about the future of it all. My heart wants to love Xbox, and the gaming industry, but with each passing day, with each studio closing, I find it harder and harder to support the hobby and industry I grew to love.

How many others are like me?

To be fair, I do not think the average person who plays games will think twice about Xbox’s layoffs or the closing of studios. I’m in a small echo chamber that reads news and listens to gaming podcasts daily. I’m tuned in to the gaming industry in a way that the average person who just wants to play COD, a sports game, or Fortnite never will be.

But I do wonder if the illusion will break for those people too. And, if it does happen, what is the catalyst that breaks them?
Happy Fourth of July

July 4th, 2025

I was born into a military family. My grandfather on my mother’s side was career Air Force. Several cousins, uncles, aunts, are in or served in some branch of the military. My dad, if he had not been hit by a car on a bike ride, would have been career Air Force as well. Several surgeries prevented him from functioning in his role, so he received an honorable discharge. My father instilled in me an appreciation for the sacrifices military folk make on a daily basis. However, that is where my appreciation for the United States and the military ends. That’s where my views of the United States start to truly take shape. I never followed in my father’s footsteps, even if it would have been the better option than drowning in student debt.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

Declaration of Independence

I’m not patriotic.

Nor do I support most of the politicians in Congress. To me Congress is nothing but a lot of talk with little benefit to the average American citizen. They make bolds promises but hardly, if ever, deliver something that truly helps.

I am not a Republican. Or Democrat. Or some far left radical. I’m not MAGA. Nor do I believe in Trump. What I support gets lumped into being ‘a radical leftest’ simply because I care about people. I wish I didn’t even have to say I’m an independent voter, because that’s not even right. I’m a mishmash of various ideals and beliefs that no party truly embodies. The closest politicians that hold similar beliefs are AOC and Bernie Sanders. And now Zorhan Mamdani.

I have little love for the establishment that governs the U.S.. The bit of love I muster is more of an appreciation for what the United States stands for rather than what it is. There is promise, of course… Every country has promise. However, the narrative that the United States is the greatest country in the world never sat right with me. From being a wee lad in a civics class in middle school to my adult life, I’ve always scoffed at that idea. Having lived overseas, I can firmly say I do not believe that one bit.

Is it better than others?

Sure.

The best?

Nope.

On paper, the United States is far from the best. Norway has better social support for their citizens. Overall, the EU has better public transportation. Health care in most first world countries are light years ahead of the U.S.. Not to mention… Affordable.

The United States continues to plummet in education (elementary to high school). Attending a University in most EU countries is cheaper for its citizens and offers about the same, if not a better, education than the United States. We have Southern and Midwest states that push religion rather than science as a means to understanding the world. Universities spend more money on sports than the fine arts. Libraries are being attacked for silly reasons. I could on and on about the state of education and the lack of support people actually have but I’ll stop here.

There’s a lot more wrong with the U.S. than education.

There is an illusion of free speech that most Americans tout, but the truth is EU countries share the same amount of freedom in that regard. The difference between the two is the perception of consequence regarding what you say. In the U.S., people believe they can speak freely, but facing consequences shatters this belief. When that happens, folks scream about free speech without realizing free speech against the government is not the same as free speech on social media and in businesses. You can and should be held accountable for the nonsense you say and the falsehoods you spread.

When I lived and worked in Japan, I felt nothing being stifled in terms of speech, and I was a foreigner who was outspoken in the workspace. The illusion the U.S. is the only country with free speech is comical at best.

Free press is slipping and capitulating to the President. Trump is attacking any news outlet that report negatively on him. The President pushes various news outlets as enemies, rather than listening and trying to be a better leader. The road to fascism begins with the idea that the press is the enemy, something the United States is heading down at a rapid pace. Sorry, but it’s the truth. Not some odd foreign idea that one side is pushing. Press is the enemy of the state in fascist regimes. We are seeing that come to life, now. With every single attack the President and other politicians make towards press.

And don’t get me started on LGBTQ+ and trans rights. Let’s just take the right of existing away because… Religion? Bigotry? You don’t like them? It’s mind blowing that people can be heartless and uncaring to the existence of someone in 2025. Trans people exist. Gay people exist. We have every right to live our lives. But, according to Trump and a large quantity of people in this country, we don’t. We don’t deserve to be seen and heard in a country that prides itself on being free.

So how is the United States the best country in the world? What does it do that makes it the best?

Sure we have a massive military budget but at the expense of everything else. The U.S. pours more money in a military budget than taking care of U.S. citizens. The whole leave it up to the states is fine, but most red states struggle in that aspect without federal support. In my home state of Arkansas, crime is still high. More violent crimes happen here than 47 other states. Education is one of the worst in the country. Health care is awful. Infrastructure a joke. Most people in Arkansas live in poverty and need social support from the government. And that’s with federal support.

But let’s leave things up to the states with little to no help from the federal government. I don’t mean to be a pessimistic but red, blue, and purple states are all going to suffer. People are going to suffer. Though, I hope I’m wrong.

We have an end to birthright citizenship looming and the DOJ looking into denaturalizing citizens. The ‘Big Beautiful Bill’ threatens massive social cuts that will hurt many people and rural communities (Arkansas is full of rural and poor communities). Despite most Republican and Trump saying the opposite (read the bill, it’s bad for those that already struggle to meet ends meet). Prices continue to rise, not go down like Trump says. We have ICE agents acting with little regard to compassion or allowing a person to offer proper identification before taking them away.

But, yes, let’s praise the United States for everything that it has done. Yay military. Yay for ignoring human rights and treating people like garbage. Yay for supporting Israel’s wars in the Middle East with missiles that are killing/killed innocent people in Gaza (I know this started under Biden but the support Congress has/had is absurd). President Trump is doing so well. We are thriving! Woo! (If it’s not clear, I’m being sarcastic.)

I may not be patriotic, but I do care. I care about the people that are going to be hurt because of rhetoric that President Trump and MAGA spew. I care about the millions of Americans that face a lack of medical care and face being homeless or are homeless. I care about people who come to the U.S. thinking they have a chance at a new life, only to be shipped away without due process. I care deeply about the environment and wildlife that are going to be ravaged because of unchecked capitalism, development, and ‘drill baby drill’.

I care about people. Even the ones that would, and will, vilify me for stating my views on a country I live in. Caring, I think, means more than being ‘patriotic’ to a country that continues to move away from being the promise that it was and could be. It’s unfortunate that the people who are in power don’t care about the people they represent. It’s unfortunate that a lot of people may simply dismiss me because I’m not one of them or their agenda.

Is the United States the worst country? No. But it isn’t the best, no matter how loud people try to scream from the rafters. The promise is there but it doesn’t feel like it will ever come. There is no ‘Golden Age’ on the horizon for the average American. Only the enrichment of people who already hold power and wealth, while the other 99% of the U.S. suffers with the illusion the people with power and wealth care.

This will probably get me in trouble with future employers or, hell, maybe the government too. That’s fine. I’m unemployed. No health insurance. Poor. Annoyed. Drowning in student debt that I doubt I’m ever going to have the ability to pay off before I die. And have little hope in improving my place in the world. And that’s fine too. I’m fortunate that I have a support system, not everyone has that. I’m also well aware that my support system can disappear at any moment. If it does, I join the millions that are homeless.

For now, I will enjoy my freedom to write and critique the government… And I will keep doing so when that freedom is taken away. If I end up homeless, I will keep putting words to paper (if I have access to paper and pen).

I’m not patriotic.

I’m not a revolutionary.

I’m a nobody that cares about people, wildlife, and the environment.

I’m a nobody who believes in the promise and vision of a United States that has slipped away.

I’m a nobody most people will ignore or not care about.

I’m a nobody that cares about you, random person who stumbled on this post.

I wish the best for everyone, whether you’re MAGA, a liberal, or any part of the political spectrum. I hope you find the America you dream of, and hope that dream has compassion for those who struggle to live, can’t be themselves, or find themselves unwanted.

I hope in the months, and years, to come, compassion will make its way back into the hearts of Americans. I hope the leadership that we are expected to blindly follow actually starts to care about the people they are supposed to represent and lead.

All I have is hope.

But that doesn’t mean much these days.

Happy Fourth of July.
Love is an odd thing

June 27th, 2025

I once had a partner tell me I made everything feel like a romance movie. The highs and lows. I could make her laugh and cry in a single moment. But, there is always the but, she said there was something artificial in the way I held myself. As if I was performing instead of being there with her, in the moment. Ultimately, it was that lack of presence that pushed her away.

We were young. Dumb. Still trying on versions of ourselves. I was a whimsical dreamer. She was more certain of our world.

That memory lives in corner of my mind, anchored to a summer seventeen years ago. I was eighteen and smitten with a girl I met shortly after I graduated from high school. In those summer months, from June to August, I convinced myself I loved her. She convinced herself that she loved me. Then reality came and that movie-like summer had ended. I headed to college, and she went back to life in our hometown.

That summer occasionally comes back from time to time. Usually in May, when I see her pop up on my Facebook feed because her birthday has come around. She has kicked ass and taken names in the time since. She’s incredible and I admire her dearly. I doubt she ever thinks about me. Which is fine. We had our time together, and life moves on. We would never work out, not with my head in the clouds and her feet firmly on the ground.

It’s a strange thing to remember your past loves. Every past love felt monumental. Real.

Now, with time and distance, I can see it for what it really was: a deep longing to connect, to belong, to be swept up in the idea of love. To believe that, for a moment, there is a person who knows me fully. I mistook love for lust in those days and several summers after.

Today, I’m still dreamer and I love the idea of love. I always will.

I write this as a reminder to myself; I will, one day, find someone who embodies the connection I’ve always longed for. It’s easy to feel discouraged as the years roll on. But at thirty-five years-young, I still believe. There’s plenty of time to find the spark, to find the one that ignites something true and lasting.

You keep searching too, friend. It will come.
Pride

June 20th, 2025

Happy Pride, Friends

Pride Month is a time when members of the LGBTQ+ community come together to celebrate who they are and honor the legacy of the Stonewall riots. Truth be told, I’ve never been someone who actively celebrates or reflects on Pride Month. Sure, I’ll share the usual tweet or Facebook post to say, “Happy Pride,” but I’ve never had an active voice in the community.

Back in 2015, a friend asked me why I didn’t participate more. At the time, I answered honestly: “I’m still searching for myself.” What I meant was that I hadn’t quite figured out my sexuality. I only dated people who identified as women, but I’d also made out with guys at parties. I wasn’t ashamed, just uncertain of myself.

These days, I’m still on the fringes of the LGBTQ+ community, mostly because I’m antisocial. It’s not the best reason, I know. The idea of going out to meetups or marches feels overwhelming. It’s just not easy for me.

That said, I’ve become more open and public about my sexuality over the years. My friends and family know. Everyone else either picks up on it with time or through social media posts. I’m pansexual. And while I may not be shouting it from the rooftops, I’m proud.

This blog post is a small contribution. My quiet celebration of who I am and a message of support for anyone still on their journey. I may not march often (though I did attend one in my home state this year), but I love and accept myself fully.

If you’ve stumbled upon this post and are navigating your own path, please know that I support you. Especially if you’re living in a southern U.S. state like I am, where it can be tough in communities that are deeply religious, homophobic, or anti-trans. You are not alone.

Take care of yourself. And if you ever need a supportive ear, feel free to reach out to me on Bluesky.

Happy Pride.
Value in being jobless

June 13th, 2025

Finding value in yourself is important when you’re jobless. The monster of doubt on your shoulder can often feel overwhelming but know that ‘being jobless’ is temporary. I constantly have to remind myself of that as the days tick on. It’s hard to pull yourself from the muck of depression when job hunting. You apply for jobs. Sometimes you hear back. Sometimes you’re ghosted. You craft a focused resume for each position to, hopefully, increase your chances. You write cover letters hoping someone will read them. Rinse, repeat; over and over again. After weeks, perhaps months, you start to feel lost. Like nothing matters, no matter how hard you work towards getting a job. It’s frustrating. Defeating. And, honestly, an awful experience when all that energy could have gone towards projects or activities you enjoy. Unfortunately, the cycle is part of the process, for better or worse.

This is my first real job hunt experience; an odd thing to say at 35 years old. In previous blogs I mentioned how lucky I was in the past, that luck hasn’t appeared this time around. While I’m only a month unemployed, and job hunting since April, this is the first time I’ve received no requests for interviews. Not a one. This is/has been the most discouraging aspect of my time job hunting experience. And, of course, I fall into the loop of, what am I doing wrong? How can I make myself more appealing to the algorithm that filters me away from recruiters? I try to avoid the loop, but it happens. I know most of the why’s, how’s, and what’s are out my hand, but gosh do they linger in the back of my mind.

I’m thankful the places I’m interested in haven’t ghosted me (not yet at least). Though, I would love not to get rejections on weekends and late at night, both cause a bit of dismay when I’m trying to relax and enjoy myself. I don’t need to feel hopeless on weekends too.

Despite the hopelessness I’m feeling, I’m doing my best to keep my head above water with my writing projects. The more I write, the more I realize I do have value. I know in my heart someone will eventually see that value. With each word that fills the screen, I’m forging tales that encourage me to keep going. Hopefully, when I finally have the courage to share beyond this space, folks will feel encouraged by those words too.

So, find projects, activities, or develop skills in the moment of time where you’re waiting to hear from potential employers. It can be anything, so long as it keeps you grounded and moving forward. Don’t let the monster of doubt win. Keep pushing on.