Listening to your own feelings



Being shy makes a person become obsessed with what other people are thinking about them. You might even feel like a mind reader. It’s all-encompassing, sometimes, and in some ways a personality trait. Instead of focusing on their reaction to you, maybe try focusing on your own feelings. For example, if someone comes up to you and says, “I hate my job,” what is your reaction? Do you think, “Why did they say that to me? Do I look like I hate my job, too?” That person may not even be thinking about how you feel about the job. But, what do you think about that person?

Do you think, “why does this person hate their job?” Or maybe even, “They aren’t even working as hard as me!” Its okay to just listen to your own feelings about that person. They aren’t reading your mind. The difference is that you actually focus on your own feelings, and care more about yourself. Likely, you have just pushed your own thoughts into the background, while you’ve put priority on the other person’s thoughts and feelings. You might feel a bit more free if you can just focus on yourself. It can be frightening for an anxiety sufferer, because those people feel obligated to know how others feel about them. Moment to moment, any one of us can become confident or insecure, depending on which of our strengths or weaknesses are at the forefront. That fluidity is natural, since every person has a confident side and an insecure side. A socially anxious person may fear that ever changing state, and try to control it. Some people want to appear confident and like-able all the time, but that is just too much work. You may need to accept that part of social interaction is leaving it up to chance, and that is part of the fun. Yes, it’s not always fun, but that’s just life. It’s just one of those quirks of being an anxious person, too. Take care!

This is part of the bigger picture

“This is part of the bigger picture.” Over-focused people may find themselves micro-managing their moments. Each moment is about keeping score to make sure they are ahead. Sometimes I find myself hoping for another opportunity to “make things right” if I feel like I have made a social faux pas, or made my anxiety evident in some way. Social anxiety makes me want to keep every relationship around me in good standing, so I don’t have to worry about it. That tends to become a bigger problem than any perceived social drama. I don’t have to force my friend to like me in the next moment, because it is just a moment. Negative moments happen, and sometimes your perception can highlight each one of them. If you are an anxious person, it is likely that you are seeing more of the negative moments than the people around you. The overall relationship with that person will take time to develop. If you are working on becoming a less anxious person, then let things naturally occur and be patient. Patience is very important, and can be a problem area for an overly-focused anxious person. Remembering that this is just part of the bigger picture allows you to let the moment go. Fear will make you want to hold on and do it over, but remembering this will help you let it go. Like it’s been said before, “This too shall pass.”

Honestly, it’s tough. But, I want to keep focused on the positive!


4 Mantras for Social Anxiety

A mantra can help combat the negativity that my anxiety likes to throw at me. As much as I love torturing myself with constant self-criticism, I find that I need a break from it once in a while. The more you recite some positive phrases, the more they will become part of the background noise on the inside. Sometimes, a mantra can keep your mind on track, when it wants to run off the rails. Its just one of the little things that can help you, when things are difficult. I just want to share some of the mantras I came up with that have helped me. These are battle tested. These are more for immediate feelings of nervousness around coworkers, strangers, or whoever.


1. This interaction is not that important.

Anxiety tends to make every interaction seems like a test. If you fail the interaction, then you are a terrible person. However, if you are just having some conversation with a coworker, then it is okay to be awkward and perhaps say something that fails to get the desired reaction. Every interaction doesn’t have to be perfect. In fact, those perfect moments of flawless bonding are some of the rarest things in the world. It’s best to just take this interaction for what it is: just a way to kill some time. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try to be a bit charming, but you probably are giving more to them than they are giving to you.

2. They’re awkward, and not always charming, too.

You may be seeing them through a lens of your own self-criticism, but in reverse. Every flaw that you have, they don’t have. You may be looking at them, and seeing only the good qualities. This is just your own mind torturing you. The fact is, the people around you are awkward. They fail at being funny, for example, but people give them a fake laugh anyway to be polite and encouraging. People at work and school often just tolerate each other, but they are polite and don’t let it show. People think terrible things about each other all the time, and feel secretly jealous the rest of the time. An still, people deep down care about each other, and want to be loved. Even that person at work who everyone rags on, deep down they are cared about as well. Emotions are complicated like that. You can’t just focus on the bad parts or the good parts. I do find that I tend to forget this, and I like to be reminded.

3. I am enjoying this talk.

Sometimes, I forget to actually relax and attempt to enjoy some small talk. Certainly, we are all forced into those types of situations, sometimes. Maybe you’ve already looked through your whole Facebook feed, and can no longer stare at your phone. So, you have an idle conversation with a coworker about recipes or whatever. If you have social anxiety, even that can be nerve-wracking. Maybe try to remind yourself that small talk is just some mild entertainment. It’s not the most exciting thing in the world. If you are able to enjoy it a little bit, then focus on that. The more you focus on the good feelings, the better you will feel. Even just bonding with someone over something simple can feel good. There’s always a chance you may create an interesting relationship with that person, because you never really know what will happen.

4. I enjoy being myself.

Part of you must know that you are a unique and fascinating individual. Don’t throw that away! It’s important to build yourself up, when anxiety does nothing but tear you down. You are so unique, in fact, that you often don’t have anything in common with other people. That is okay, because they are lucky to have someone like you around. Take pride in being a unique individual. Let some of your uniqueness show once in a while, because if feels good to connect with others honestly. Even if you don’t get to show your uniqueness to acquaintances, or whoever you have to deal with, still be proud of it. Just get through the day. Then, at the end of the day, you can go home and be that awesome person that you truly are.


One of the coolest things about a mantra, is that each repetition seems to give new meaning to the phrase. Some people believe that your mind likes to look at an idea from all different angles before it truly understands it. That is why some lessons take a long time to learn.




Lucid Dream Chronicles

I lucid dream pretty frequently, and I’ve observed some interesting things. Sometimes things don’t work like they are supposed to, in my dream land. Maybe it relates to my subconscious problems in some way. When I realize I’m dreaming, I like to start floating immediately. Gravity pretty much disappears at that point, and I float around instead of walking, because I’m into that. But, sometimes it doesn’t do what I want it to. Sometimes, I get that feeling like I’m moving through molasses, and other times I flat out sink to the ground. Since I play video games, sometimes I sink through the floor, and I’m thinking, “shit, I’m off the map.”

So, this afternoon I was dreaming, and it was so real that I thought I was in reality. Until I noticed that Youtube was malfunctioning, and that never happens, so that was my trigger. Yes, I was internet browsing in my dream. I figured out I was dreaming, and took off towards the sky to explore. I was having a hard time controlling my flight. At one point, I even relived one of the bad experiences I’ve had lately: trying desperately to convince myself to be happy, while having a bad day at work. Its normal to relive experiences through dreams, and I guess that will happen even when you are lucid dreaming. In my dream, I was trying to convince myself that I was really flying, even though I knew I was dreaming, in order to feel happy in that moment. It smacked of dream logic.

So, this will sound corny, but hell, screw people who think emotions are corny. Anyway, I discovered that my mood affected my ability to control my dream. No joke, I was able to fly more freely when I filled my mind with good feelings, something I am capable of when I am awake, sometimes. Sometimes, just imagining a good song raises my mood, and it worked in the dream, too. I really want to remember this, because I will probably forget. I have had trouble with lucid dreaming in the past, from getting headaches in the dream to having to relinquish control at times. Maybe, its just my damn mood! I’m sure I will remember next time I’m in dream land. It kind of sucks that I can’t always control the content of my dream. Usually, the setting and the story are not mine, but what I end up doing is just fucking shit up. Like, going home to home and eating their food and making them angry, then floating away. I get a headache if I try to control it too hard. Meh, maybe I’ll figure out how to fix that later. I’ll practice flying for now.2ecbfb98e26231e56bd4d859f12ea0e1

Five Writing Tips for People with Anxiety!



I spent most of my childhood wishing I knew how to just sit down and write something. I spent a lot of time being depressed about it, honestly. I didn’t realize that a.) I was doing some things right and b.) some things would come with time. Some of the work involves loving yourself and helping yourself relax. And some of the work is just finding practical solutions to basic problems. Here are some tips I would like to share, with the hopes that they will be useful tools for you.


1. Take a walk before you write

No, I’m not trying to make you exercise. Here’s the logic behind this: it gives you time to think before you sit down in front of the screen. Basically, you may need to plan something right before you sit down. That’s assuming you don’t have the ability to get an idea earlier in the day, remember it for hours, and then be motivated to write it later. That may happen sometimes, but it may be hard to do that on a regular basis. I find that just letting my mind wander while walking will produce some good results. Also, you are more likely to  get an idea when you are doing something mundane that involves previously rehearsed movements. For example, showering or driving tend to be great idea generators. However, I find that walking takes less mental energy than driving, and you can go for as long as you need.


2. Form Habits

Ever get that fiery passion to write, but it happens in some random place where you don’t have access to your computer? You can train yourself to want to write at a certain time, if you form certain habits. I noticed that sometimes I would get the desire to do a certain task, if something sparked a memory inside me. Like, when you go to a friends house and suddenly crave the food you always eat together. That is another benefit of taking a walk first, or doing any type of activity regularly before you write: suddenly, it will put you in the mood. It’s a handy brain hack that can be used for many activities. Also, if you write at the same time each day, or after the same activity (basically, a habit) it will actually be more pleasurable for your brain to do it. It will take a long time, but the pros tend to have daily habits of some sort.


3. Let the Ideas Develop

Some ideas flow out easily, and some are more complex and hard to express. Those ideas take time to develop and take form. It can be a good strategy to put a project on the shelf, while you work on something easier. Letting an idea sit in the back of your mind means that your unconscious mind is left to ponder it. Don’t feel guilty about it, just use it. Your unconscious mind is where your best ideas come from, after all. It will try to find connections between your daily life and the problem of making your story easier to express. You might even wake up after a good sleep, and suddenly feel inspired. Many authors have ideas that they keep inside of them for years, before finally putting them into print. That always puts me in a better mood, because I definitely do that.


4. You Don’t Need to Plan Everything

Sometimes, you have an epic scene in mind that is the cornerstone of your story. Sometimes, you have no idea what will happen after the next scene you are writing. Either way, it’s okay. These are two perfectly acceptable writing strategies. It is just usually helpful to plan out the scene you are going to write before sit down to write it, but you don’t really need to plan further than that. Sometimes it’s fun to leave yourself open to the whims of the moment. As a person with anxiety, you may be the type to plan things out way further in advance than you need to, while leaving some of the small details for later. That’s a great writing strategy, too! You just need to come back down to earth when it is time to iron out those details. Maybe let yourself be a little flexible, as those small things may end up changing the big picture later. As long as you keep what is important to your story intact, it is okay to be a little flexible.


5. You are Doing So Many Things Right

You should give yourself credit for the things you are doing right. If you enjoy writing, then you must have some ideas that you feel strongly about. You probably think about them all the time, and imagine them in your mind. You think about your audience, and how you want to affect them. You think about your characters or your world, and how much you enjoy it. That is the most right thing you could be doing! All the rest of the stuff will come with time, as you learn more about yourself and the process of writing. Have three kitty babushkas!



Connected Society, pt 2


As the sun sank beneath the clear sky, Clancy jogged to the parking lot to find his junker car. It wasn’t an old car, but he couldn’t afford the type that would last. It was sort of a disposable item, and one that would eventually be recycled to become part of a new piece of junk. He dreamed of owning a solid machine, that would be able to carry him across his home country for years. He appreciated the freedom that it afforded him, however, and he had saved money for half a decade to purchase the car. The young man checked his appearance in the dash screen camera, and scrolled through his social media before turning up some music. He burned the tires out as he flung the lightweight vehicle onto the street. He avoided the bright lights of the shopping district, favoring the more arboreal areas where he could really hug the curves.

He pulled into the driveway of his parents home, as the cool, purple twilight replaced the warm light of the sun. The crickets were making noise in the yard, making him feel nostalgic for summers in his past. Living in the suburbs meant commuting to the city for school, and the sounds of nature felt like guilty pleasures for him. Many areas of the country no longer had a population of large insects, such as crickets. Their numbers were encouraged by breeding and feeding, as part of the package deal of his community. In that way, their presence was man-made.

As he entered his house, he greeted his mom from the door, and went upstairs to drop his stuff off. He had to pass by his twin brother’s room, and he always wished he would just keep the door closed. He didn’t care for his brothers depressing music, or the dim lighting that made it feel like an air-conditioned cave. The door was open, and his brothers virtual reality suit lay on the ground like a fleshy, discarded skin. It was disgusting for reasons other than the creepiness, and the aesthetics. He knew that most of the fantasies that he enjoyed were better left unspoken. He knew, partly, because he himself would have done similar things. Clancy was resistant to this lifestyle, even more so from watching his brother. He assumed the suit was fun to wear, but not so fun to observe. It was pressurized to allow for touch sensations, and contained many other features to provide an immersive experience. He was grateful that it did not have waste collecting capabilities, like other models.

His brother, Terrance, appeared from behind the door. He was thin and pale, and had carefree stubble on his face. His hair was darker than Clancy’s, partially due to a lack of sun exposure. He wore stylish large-framed glasses, while Clancy wore contact lenses. He barely looked at Clancy as he went to move past. Terrance turned back towards Clancy as he moved, and Clancy knew he was in for a confrontation. There was rarely was any other type of interaction with Terry in the past couple of years.

“Hey Nancy, did you meet some fanatic chick?” Terry asked.

“Hell no, fucktard,” Clancy said.

“You’ve got that smell about you. Not pussy, of course, but of something lame and annoying. Was it some kind of vegan?” Terry asked.

“Uh, no, you know how I feel about meat,” Clancy said. He had always been a fan of meat, especially when covered in steak sauce.

“You going to join some gay social movement?” Terry asked. It hadn’t been popular to use the term ‘gay’ in a derogatory fashion in decades, but Terry liked all things retro.

“What the hell is your problem?” Clancy asked.

“Your reading is off. It looks like someone got in your head. Trust me, I’m familiar with the appearance of that state,” Terry said, sounding technical.

“Don’t look at my fucking reading,” Clancy said.

“Hey bro, I can’t have you making me look bad. We have the same genes. Still, you are more prone to absorbing bullshit than I am, because you’re ignorant,” Terry said.

“So, what do you think you see?” Clancy asked. Without trying, the feeling of that mental object appeared. It seemed to have form in his mind, as if the edges of it were touching the inside of his skull. He was curious of his brother’s reaction. He viewed him as being closer to the norm than himself.

“Oh, don’t you use me as a guinea pig, dude. You either tell me what happened, or be fucking gone with you. And hell yes, I am more normal than you,” Terry said. Then, his eyes widened.

“Oh, I get it. You’re horny for an abnormal. You fucking idiot. They’re goddamn crazy. Worse that some bullshit fanaticism, my friend,” he said.

“I don’t think she’s a fanatic,” Clancy said, though he started to worry.

“How the hell would you know the difference? You wouldn’t know the difference between reality and some fucked up version of it if your dick depended on it,” Terry said.

“What if this feel is something important? What if it’s something that I can use?” Clancy asked.

“That’s what fanaticism does to you. It makes you think some bullshit is important, when in fact it is just a figment of your imagination. The only real ‘cure’ you found there was the ‘cure’ of delusion,” Terry said, using air quotes around the word ‘cure’.

“But it connected with the words she was saying. And, she used it to deal with her loneliness. By the way, I never said I wanted a cure,” Clancy said.

“You didn’t have to, bro. I’ve got a cure for you, and it’s laying on the floor in my room. When are you going to accept that virtual reality is the only one in which you will get laid?” Terry asked.

“Because I’m not you, douchebag,” Clancy said. Terry smiled, and then punched Clancy’s arm so hard that his nerves sparked with pain.

“Fucker, I need my arm for more than jacking off,” Clancy said.

“You think I’m jacking off? I’m talking to actual women online, idiot,” Terry said.

“You got proof?” Clancy asked.

“Yeah, we meet up sometimes. See, I’m not the delusional one, here. But I’m not inviting you, because you’re a fucking stiff, like a dead guy,” Terry said.

“Whatever,” Clancy said. He went to his room, finally dropping his back of dirty clothes. He closed the door, and sat down on the small couch in his room. His custom sound track came on went he entered the room, taking away any need to make a decision. It made him feel at home, like he picked up where he left off when he’d exited his room in the morning. It was even programmed to adjust the volume at the good parts of the song.

He spent some time trying to figure out what the girls name had been. He got the feeling that it started with an S, or maybe an R. A spark hit him, when he realized that she knew where to find him. She could always go back to the field. Hell, she probably could figure out what high school he went to. Maybe he’d see her again there. He found that he needed that reassurance, in that moment. With that settled, he was left to contemplate what she’d shown him. Was it something real? Did it exist only to tantalize him, or did it have meaning on it’s own? He looked at his own brain map for a while. He worried about becoming too self-absorbed, and so he tried not to watch it constantly. Still, he was curious. Thinking about that mental object, he saw a pattern in his brain. A quick internet search brought up some sketchy responses, but many of them described his emotional state as awe. He was disappointed. He didn’t understand how this had caused the girl’s loneliness to flee. He remembered that her mind was suffering from more than mere loneliness. He wondered what else she was capable of fixing inside of herself. It was enough to keep him awake that night, although sleeping would be more likely to help him find the answers.

Connected Society, pt 1

Following throwing practice for the match against Glenwood State, the team converged for the mid-play analysis sponsored by the Quave Corporation. They paid for the teams jerseys, energy drinks, and sometimes lifestyle enhancements, so respect must be paid back for the policies and methods of their R&D department.

“Jones, you’re up,” coach Barnam said. Clancy Jones, damp with sweat and breathing heavily, bowed his head towards the visualizer sitting on the fold out table that sunk into the soft, dewy turf.

“See, you’re still too much in control here. You need to stop focusing so much. You need to zone down for your aim,” Barnam said.

“Sorry,” Clancy said. It brought heat to his face, the kind of itchy nervous heat that was so different from the healthy sweat of physical exertion. He knew he was a control freak. Nerves and performance had always gone together for him, but these implanted brainwave monitors were forcing him to unlearn those things, as well as unravel himself to a certain extent. He couldn’t help but make connections between his in-game fears and those that had crippled those moments that made up the fabric of his happy experiences.

He knew what anyone who could throw a ball now knew, thanks to popular science sponsored by Quave Corp. Your body and your mind knew how to aim without your own personal input. It would learn more each time you threw a ball. In fact, the less you tried to speak to that secret part of yourself, the better it was able to do it’s job.

Absently, Clancy watched a blonde haired girl going for a walk across the street. His brainwave patterns on the screen changed slightly, not really reflecting how strangely he felt. It clicked that he’d seen her before, and had registered her as a Disruptor. She was one of the abnormals, who’s brain wave patterns were bizarre enough that connecting with them could disrupt another person’s personality. The occurrence was discovered shortly after the technology became widely available, although the phenomenon is still not well understood. It was understood that one could disregard any unusual psyche patterns when in the presence of an abnormal. The tone of the guys, as they conversed, sounded a bit more strained for a moment. They changed as the energy level rose and shifted. It would end as soon as she was out of their bubble, which was a clean 100 feet away.

It was safe to say that Clancy normally didn’t interact with any abnormals. They went to private schools, and the social grid was arranged to separate them. It was the new way to ensure public safety, and enhance birth rates of normal people. The abnormal ways of raising children was as much to blame for their faulty thinking patterns as their own genes. The misguided teachings they passed down from generations encouraged abuse and neglect, and were rarely able to be corrected. At least, that was the popular thinking. Clancy knew that debating such a topic wouldn’t be prudent in a public setting. He knew that some people held different views, but he never knew who he could talk to safely. He guessed that anyone else would feel the same. Still, it wasn’t hard to hate the abnormals, with the way they made others feel. Clancy was curious, though, and always had been. He thought about becoming a public servant someday, which would gain him access to their world. That job was not held in high esteem, as it was generally regarded as masochism. It was a social suicide mission. Still, Clancy thought of himself as strong and capable enough to overcome such an obstacle.

In the summer sun, he didn’t feel that he was in danger. He felt secure in his own self, and his understanding of reality. He felt that any new experience could only make the world all the more beautiful, or at least he told himself that. Surely, if there was more to his world than the track his parents set him upon, then he would need to take measures to see it for himself.

“I need to go make a phone call,” he said, to the group as a whole. They just looked at him.

“It’s my mom,” Clancy said. Two of the guys snorted, but the rest were quiet.

“Don’t laugh at him. You know we don’t allow that type of disruption. We treat each other with respect,” the coach said. The two, known for having a low social standing, were quiet. There wasn’t much lower they could sink, but causing disruption could lead to a downward spiral for any person. Negative connotations were not allowed, unless directed by someone superior.

“Go make your phone call,” the coach said, trying to sound kind, but it came off false and threatening. Clancy knew he wouldn’t have much time to break away from the group, and so he hurried over towards the road. When he knew he was out of the sphere of contact with the rest of the group, he started to relax. He saw the hair of the blonde girl, moving down the road. The flash of soft gold gave him a jolt, as he hurried to catch up to her.

She stopped in front of a store selling virtual companions. That was an acceptable activity for an abnormal. The street monitors, welded to the street signs and storefront windows, would register her activity as passive. He hoped to pass, as well. He thought about what her face would look like on those monitors. He wondered if they registered the sadness on her face, and counted it among the others. He thought briefly about her warm brown eyes, and round cheeks. The manufactured cuteness of the robotic pets was bittersweet for him. He always wanted one, more due to curiosity than loneliness. They didn’t really have consciousness, any more than a blender did when you hit the button and asked it to puree some fruit chunks. You looked at their faces, and they registered your eyes and expression. They had a wide range of responses, almost as much as a true animal, but that was all it was. Abnormals often had a hard time acquiring conscious pets, either natural or man-made, that had hearts and minds acting in tandem. Animal rights had progressed greatly in recent years, ending the barbaric times when conscious animals were sold as commodities and crammed by the dozens into the houses of abnormals. Still, sometimes kindness backfired, and prevented a good person from owning a living companion. At least, that was how Clancy felt. The blonde girl watched a little green bird, hopping around on a perch. You could buy them with or without design, depending on the level of realism you desired. Some people found the naked ones stylish, with their exposed workings and blue lights covered by clear silicone skin. The two options sat together on the perch, looking like advertisements for themselves. He felt sad for the birds, even though he knew they had no emotions. He wondered why he felt that way.

He had forgotten, as he approached, that he was entering her sphere of influence. Somehow, entering had caused him to adjust to her, and forget about the implant briefly. Maybe the girl didn’t spend much time thinking about hers. Clancy felt like it was always on his mind, even more prominent than his thoughts about the future. His desire to connect with others was addictive, and rewarding. But then, standing near that girl, it suddenly seemed confining. He pulled up the settings screen, which was telepathically linked to the visual region of his brain. He saw her thought state appear next to his own, and he noted the spikes of activity. Her brain had high activity in areas that shouldn’t have been activated. His own activity reflected the effects of empathy, immediately after he noticed this. Empathy, which caused just a little more activity in those areas of his own mind. His primitive mind was seeking to connect with her. Not only that, but it was registering her background thoughts. His own will, hidden at times from himself, was seeking to recreate her mind within his own. He never would have believed it, if he hadn’t seen it for himself. He noted that she was aware of his presence, and that she felt slightly disgusted. It offended him, until he realized that the disgust made a loop, and returned to being directed at herself. His interest in her only amplified her self-loathing.

“You like the birds?” he asked her. He decided it would be polite to make conversation. She looked at him for just a second, before lowering her eyes again. Through telepathy, she knew his true motives. Normally, it was polite to disregard this as background noise. After all, unsavory thoughts are just an accepted part of reality, and not necessarily important. As she was an abnormal, though, Clancy was not sure how she would respond.

“Yeah, they’re pretty,” she said, though she sounded sad. He felt her loneliness. Part of him shut it out, without being asked. He knew what her life was, and he didn’t want to think about it. As he watched his own monitor, he watched a strange wave of electrical activity cross his brain. It was the type that occurred during an epiphany. Actually, more accurately, during a moment of clarity. Those moment scared him, when they happened alone. He liked to disregard them.

That moment had coincided with an occurrence in the girls mind, though. It was a moment that cleared the loneliness from her mind. She felt warm, suddenly. His cheeks warmed then, as he started to think about her body. He wondered if she was attracted to him.

A blast of information from her confused him. The two of them stood there, silently, as Clancy pulled apart the ephemeral threads of her thoughts. Sure, she thought he was cute. That was a given. Clancy held onto that thought, and started to fidget. The girl, whose name began to appear as sort of an amorphous glom of letters, asked him to continue searching. She showed him the true source of her change of heart.

Some sort of large object appeared in his mind. It made no sense to him. It seemed to emanate with words and mantras that connected to emotions and experiences. The girl turned to him, and spoke.

“That’s my world. I made it for myself. It could probably heal, but everyone treats it like it’s dangerous. I could probably help you, too,” she said.

“Me?” Clancy asked.

“Yeah, but you seem like you’re all right. Just keep going. Maybe you’ll find your own,” she said. She turned to walk away. Clancy glanced back in the direction of his teammates, and found that one of his friends had come to look for him. He knew that he needed to return, to do laps around the field. He tried with all of his might to remember the monstrous thing that girl had shown him, but he found that his implant refused to save the information. He wondered where to even begin, or if he could find that within himself, again.


For once, I’m in a good place in my life, and am capable of forcing my creative side to become organized. I’ve got some projects that I’m working on, but I would like to share some short stories here. Maybe I will publish a book here, piecemeal, but I am not sure about it. It’s been fun to play with these characters, but I am serious about letting other people play with them, too. I’m 29-years-old, in school for my graduate degree of psychiatric nurse practitioner. I work part-time, and I daydream full-time.  I can’t enjoy life unless I have a writing project to work on, and the idea of having people actually read my writing is exciting. My short stories take place in my little world, which encompasses Earth as well as another planet that is similar but more advanced. Earth stories tend to be more in the horror genre, because isn’t life terrifying? I love to delve into the inner thoughts of my characters. I suffer from social anxiety disorder, and it has been a trip just trying to survive. I hope that my perspective on things is both entertaining and illuminating for anyone reading.