
2025 Reflection
I’m leaning against the bar, looking at a reflection that finally stopped looking like a cautionary tale and started looking like a threat. I’m officially forty pounds lighter than the
Explore raw, unfiltered reflections on life, loss, identity, and love. From monogamy to madness, these real-life stories pull no punches — and they just might hit home.

I’m leaning against the bar, looking at a reflection that finally stopped looking like a cautionary tale and started looking like a threat. I’m officially forty pounds lighter than the

I am officially forty pounds lighter than the bloated wreck I was in August. I am winning the war on gravity. But to understand the victory, you have to understand

You want to know what the psychiatrist’s problem is? He’s scared. He looks at a man like you—a man who went from a feral, cat-killing thirteen-year-old to a disciplined sailor,

That old drunk Bukowski said to find what you love and let it kill you, and I suppose that is exactly what I have been doing, slowly, methodically, and with

The ice in my glass had melted down to jagged little shivs, floating in a pool of amber that cost too much and burned too good. Across the table, Charles—my

I went back to the Mexican joint. The one with the shrimp. You know the place. It’s loud. It smells like lard and cleaning products and the heavy, desperate perfume

I’m leaning against the bar, looking at a reflection that finally stopped looking like a cautionary tale and started looking like a threat. I’m officially forty pounds lighter than the

My grandmother, Bertha, didn’t just put you to bed. She installed you. Going to sleep in her house wasn’t a casual event; it was a medical and religious procedure. I

So, the psychiatrist reads the file. He sees the cat killing. He sees the massage parlor. He sees the rage against the “societal rot.” And he adjusts his glasses, purses

It’s December. The desert air is getting thin. And I am sitting in a boardroom, smiling until my face hurts. We just won the QA Award. We won the Highest

I poured another drink, the ice clinking against the glass like a tiny, frozen gavel, and stared at the empty chair across from me. That’s where he usually sits—the Drunk

I’ve spent fifty-seven years saying “Yes.” “Yes, I’ll take the job.” “Yes, I’ll pay the bill.” “Yes, I’ll listen to your problems.” “Yes, I’ll try to fix you.” “Yes, I’ll