Writer, Artist, and Recovering 80s Hair Spray Addict
I’m tired of being told that my vote didn’t matter. That I was an uninformed voter. That I was a third party spoiler. Most of all, I’m tired of being told that it is my fault that Trump is packing to move into his new home for the next four years. I have no regrets. I voted my conscience. I voted for the candidate whom I felt would turn this country into the great land I grew up learning about in the history books of my younger…
Read MoreEvery single Fall, without fail, my emotions start swirling around like fallen leaves caught in a brisk breeze. There is no rhyme or reason to it all either. It’s almost as if my mind decides to take an emotional dump on my logic and reason – thus bequeathing me with the daunting task of sorting through why I am feeling things I didn’t even care about not even a week ago. This time of year my emotions also like to rip open scars of wounds that (I thought) were healed. As if I didn’t…
Read MoreBeing a teenager who was into punk and goth in the late 1980s wasn’t as commonplace as it is today. I was labeled a freak, and being that freak teenager under the roof of my Mom-ster was bravery at its finest. Finding my individuality and voice – and keeping it – was important to me; I did all I could to keep it and most of all, my sanity. My style, as my musical taste, was a menagerie of punk rock, post-punk, new wave, darkwave, and classic alternative. I loved wearing black…
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