There’s a measure of clarity that comes when you’re on the 5th night of working past 4am on a project. That clarity pertains primarily to the idea that I am doing work for the sake of saying I’m working instead of working towards a goal. And, upon further assessment, I can genuinely say that I am working on a project that I’d rather not be involved with and in doing so, it reminds me of the fact that I have

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I’ve thrown away all of my journals. For as long as I can remember, they’d been a part of my life, my closest and most trusted friend. They served me well through the years, on days when I felt on edge, or felt like crying, or laughing, or like simply sharing the mundane… It’s always been a part of my life. But, I haven’t written a journal entry in a year and a half. There’s an almost regressive feeling associated

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Recently, I’ve engaged in a rather intense round of reflection and self-assessment. I had to be honest with my self as to what I really want out of my life in terms of joy. It’s my therapy. And, after having a good conversation yesterday about dating and relationships, it made me even more absolute in my current thinking. I’m NEVER gonna be THAT GUY. There’s nothing casual, in my mind, about dating. Relationships are too vital to the overall human

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