Skip navigation

Tag Archives: anxiety

At least that is what I hope. Because I abhor self-promotion. Abhor it with a Katarina Strafford-level of intensity. Do you remember Kat’s rant against attending Bogey Lowenstein’s party? That’s me how much I rant against pushing my work [outside of this blog] on social media platforms, all the while trying not be come off like a pretentious asshat to friends and colleagues who seem to dive into this pool with little or no effort. Only recently did I accept [not realize, because I did that a long time ago] that I cannot escape promoting my work if I want to continue with it. So here I am, addressing, unpacking and trying to put away the reasons why I stop short of promoting what I do, even and especially if it is good work.

Read More »


It started off on Buswell Street in the fall of 2000. I was sitting in my obnoxiously large single dorm room, awaiting two older white men to commence the intellectual sparring match that would confirm who would be more qualified to lead the free world. This was the first presidential debate I would witness after (1) aceing my AP Speech & Exposition Writing class my junior year in high school [third year in secondary]; (2) participating in said high school’s debate club; and (3) finally being able to vote. I was anxious at the idea that the techniques that I, a veritable nonentity, had learned were going to be employed in a forum that affected up to 260 million people.

You know how folk get about the NFL and NASCAR? That was me in anticipation of the Gore/Bush debates.

Read More »

It’s the epiphany that kills you. Not the slow pain that comes from the withdrawal. It may feel like that sinking feeling is going to be the end of you. I can’t say that I fault your logic. That instant in which you perceive reality to come crashing down on you because the pain and emptiness are unbearable. That instant when you can start to feel your stomach eat you from the inside because it is so desperate to get its juice on the sweet nectar that made it forget how hungry it was in the first place. The tremors? The muscle spasms? The soul-screeching self-degradation? No, that’s just the withdrawal. The withdrawal won’t kill you. You will just wish that it did.

Read More »