How many years do we spend on auto-pilot, forgetting to notice the gift of being alive and human? Forgetting to connect? Follow the journey of one "such sweet small soul, carrying these giant heaping piles of armor and baggage, making Herculean and inherently flawed attempts to connect through all that."
For years, I was silent. Now I’m talking about it. The good, the bad, the ugly. Some of this comes out in a rant, sometimes a poem, sometimes a story I imagine telling you from a safe stage. Some of it is enduring truth that I draw inspiration from, and some of it is gone as soon as I let it go onto the (virtual) page.