Dear Diary, If I quit beating around my feelings in metaphorical bullshit, would it count as creative non-fiction? If I lay bare my thoughts and feelings and just talk like a 40-year-old woman done with life, complaining over mimosa to no one in particular, bitching with satire about how her father screwed her up emotionally?…
They say writing is freedom. I’m still trying to believe that. Even now, as I work on the second draft of my thriller novel, I sometimes hold back. I grit my teeth and wrestle with myself on every page. It is taking a lot of unlearning to break that. I want to dive headlong into…
Some days, I forget how to be human. That’s when I need to touch grass—literally. Not poetically. Not ironically. Just to remember I have a body. Not in a soft-lit, aesthetic way, but in the desperate sense of needing to return to something real. Something alive. My brain short-circuits. My emotions scramble. I forget how…
It’s 1:16 AM, and I’m spiraling. Not in the way that’s loud or visible. Just a slow, quiet kind of unraveling — the kind that starts with a thought and ends with a memory. The kind that makes me question everything: the people I’ve trusted, the friendships I’ve held close, the version of myself I…
She sits on a throne, high above the mortal plane, her presence an impenetrable force. A crown sits atop her head, glimmering with the weight of authority, while her long, manicured nails catch the light like sharpened daggers. Draped in a black dress, a veil cascades from her form, spreading out in dramatic arcs, a…
Being by myself had never been a problem. I could disappear into books, slipping from one story to the next, living in worlds that weren’t my own. It was the perfect escape—a way to keep my feelings at arm’s length, promising myself I’d deal with them later. Just like clicking “Remind me tomorrow” on a…
What if I feel nothing? They say love is chemical—a perfect cocktail of dopamine, serotonin, and oxytocin, all swirling in my brain, waiting for a spark. A brush of fingertips. A fleeting glance. But what if those signals never fire? What if the butterflies in my stomach have long since folded their wings, lying dormant,…
It’s that time of year again. I’m sitting at my desk with a brand-new notebook, the faint scratch of my pen filling the quiet. Outside, the world is winding down for the holidays, but here I am, making plans and setting goals. And as I flip through the crisp, empty pages, I can’t help but…
Do you know what it feels like to drown? It’s not sudden. First, the water pulls you in, wrapping itself around you like an embrace. You fight, your body instinctively struggling against the currents. But the waves keep coming, relentless and uncaring. Eventually, your strength fades. Water fills your lungs, and you stop fighting. That’s…
I left you when I was lost, standing in the dim light of my room, the shadows clinging to the walls like my doubts. The air felt heavy, thick with uncertainty, as if each breath I took was weighed down by the weight of my decisions. It hurt to cling on, each tug like a…