My Cardboard Balcony

I made a big decision this week. It's a decision that will affect a lot of things. It will affect my job. It will affect my relationships. It will affect my schedule and my energy and my time. It will cause confusion and a lot of questions. I'm sure there might be skepticism - maybe even backlash. And it's the best decision I've made in a while. I'm prepared to face the consequences of that choice. It was one of the hardest ones I've ever had to make, but I had a lot of support from mentors, family, and loved ones. I am hoping that the most important people will accept that choice, though despite what my anxiety wants, I've never been one to accurately predict the future. I'm not going to clarify what that decision is right now - after all, I'm known for being vague when I can swing it. Ultimately, I don't want to post it until everyone who should know knows. And that means you may not learn what that decision is for months - if you happe...

Self-Preservation by Belinda Roddie Sometimes, you have to think about your needs above others.

You see, this fairy tale does not end with, "Happily ever after." The prince transformed remains a beast, and the damsel remains permanently asleep. Still, she dreams, though not of pretty things; she sees twisted horses with horns and creepy merry-go-rounds. She smells grease and mangy wet wolf's hair and burning sulfur. And she heard, most defined of all, screams.

It's Ten O'Clock by Belinda Roddie It's ten o'clock, and I've never been great at going to bed at the time I should. I was hoping not to stay up so late, but my brain's like a live wire. It's not good, but it's expected. I have done a lot of writing and contemplating as well, making choices that require lots of thought and, of course, a personal dose of Hell. A storm is brewing in my hyper head; anxiety will always take a toll, not remedied by sleeping like I'm dead or doing something mindless, like a whole two hours of games or watching videos. Was this sonnet worth reading? Welp - who knows!

Rex worked his ass off to get to the finals, but he didn't even qualify for the semis. And as he threw his temper tantrum in the locker room later, I knew that there was no way I could comfort him. Rex had always been fast, but his stamina had always been garbage. He could sprint, but he couldn't keep the pace. He'd be left in the dust a mere one minute or so into the race, and he just couldn't handle knowing just how much more he had to work on.

Indecision by Belinda Roddie At first, I was a little concerned about you - how many times you counted the pencils on your desk, how much you paced until you left tracks like tire treads on the carpet. Somehow, I knew that you were still brooding over the final decision that you claimed to have made only to throw some serious shade on your own convictions, using one crooked branch arm to block out the sun. I told you this would be good for you. You've dipped your hands in so many pots now that we can't serve an entire kitchen; the food is tainted by your own anxiety, stripped like your own skin, sloughed off in hot water that you agreed to submerge yourself into - a scared submarine. Let me demonstrate: A frightened shadow in a secluded corner of a room, quiet as a catacomb, where all the skulls are plastic with their empty eye sockets turned toward the nearest wall. You claim to have a rapt audience when there isn't really any observation of yo...

Jerome worked overtime for the third day in a row, and when he walked back to his apartment, he found, to both his horror and resignation, that he had been robbed. His TV had been stolen, his desktop computer swiped. The remains of his clothes were strewn across the worn down carpet of his bedroom. In fact, the only thing the robbers didn't seem to grab was his cat, Lily, who had hidden under the bed in fear as they did their work.