Welcome to Atlas Rising
I have echoes.
She has ghosts.
I have echoes of grief, of strain and pain and agony.
She has ghosts that haunt her waking hour and monsters that peek behind curtains drawn….
Emerging from the swamp has been terrifying. I let this blog sit in queue for over a month, too scared to publish it for the world, too scared to be seen. What pushed me over the edge was isolation. This virus quarantine business has been great for reflection – and even greater for tugging atContinue reading “March 29, 2020: likes, street art, a good cause, inspiration”
I suppose we all want our time to mean something. Other animals seem content with simply existing – fucking and eating, moving about leisurely. But not humans. Humans have to create, have to reach deep and grasp for meaning. We press onward, push against the friction of paralyzing fear, watching the pendulum swing back andContinue reading “Pressing Onward”
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