Chapin City Blues

Writing is writing whether done for duty, profit, or fun.

What faults of mine have you inherited? Do you hear the echo carried in the wind, whispering your name off some distant shore of a shared memory? And, do you look back at them lovingly? Wondering if maybe, just maybe, if I had been a better man, see some future that would never be come …

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A few things have made themselves clear these last couple of months. None more certain than the boat I’m on is taking in too much water. And while three of us are trying to toss the water out, two others are intent on bucketing more in. It’s hard not to feel stressed out about this. …

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Something happened. Something I swore wouldn’t ever happened. But it’s done. I’ve done it. It’s out there now and I can’t reel it back in. I created original characters and content for [redacted]. Which means, [redacted] now owns something I created. That’s how this works, right? You’re bamboozled into needing a job and the only …

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Mornings aren’t any easier. Thirty-five years old, still trying to make sense of the world. On more than one occasion, adulthood has felt like a child playing dress up. Wondering when it’s suppose to set in. Wondering why it’s even a struggle to comprehend the roles we’re given. Punch in the numbers. Punch in the …

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One day, you’re gonna look around and you’re going to realize that everybody loves you, but nobody likes you. And that is the loneliest feeling in the world. —BoJack Horseman I. How do you write a breakup poem for a love you no longer mourn? Because you come to realize that love isn’t extinguished no …

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