Before Dawn
Since dying three and a half years ago, I’ve become a morning person. Not the cute “wake up at seven with coffee” kind — the “3 A.M. because the universe shook me awake” kind. And in that silence, untouched by the noise of billions of sleeping humans, my real life began.
The Rage of Recovery
Drool, dependency, and a staircase that suddenly feels like Everest. Healing isn’t noble or poetic. It’s rage, humiliation, fire, and the refusal to surrender your autonomy — even when life keeps stacking obstacles in your way.
Dreaming on the Edge of Becoming
Tonight I’m dreaming — about the book I just finished through broken bones and pain, and about the life I’m building from the ashes. This memoir is my launchpad. My declaration. My refusal to play small. And the future I’m carving is starting to take shape.
On Gratitude, Fear, and Finally Finishing the Damn Book
After months of chaos, healing, and unexpected clarity, I reread my memoir from beginning to end — and realized it’s finally fucking done. What comes next is terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure, but I’m stepping into it head-on.
Shaken By God, Shaken By Fate
After surviving multiple cardiac deaths, I thought I understood fragility and purpose. But this recent crash shook me in a way nothing else has. Not because I died — but because someone else nearly ended me through carelessness. Now I'm wrestling with existence, meaning, and the terrifying truth that my life isn't only in my hands.