I Hope They Get This In Time
The proof copies for A Survivor’s Guide To Survival finally arrived, and for the first time since the accident, this chapter feels complete. This book was designed for people waking up in hospital beds after trauma: scared, hurting, disoriented, and alone. If these words help even one person find their way back to themselves, then the book has already done its job.
Necroptic Vision
Ever since the accident, people seem smaller to me. The ones I used to fear. The ones I thought were powerful. Maybe death changed my vision. Maybe I developed some kind of necroptic sight that lets me see through bravado and ego straight into the fragile little souls underneath.
The Survivor’s Club
There’s a moment when you realize the scars aren’t random. They tell a story … of holding on, of not letting go, of surviving something that was trying to end you. And when you meet others who carry the same marks, you recognize it immediately. You’re part of something now.
Fire, Fracture, and the Finish Line
My book is so goddamned close. And So, She Rose didn’t come together in a straight line. It came together through death, through failure, through pain, and finally, through fire. Turns out, sometimes the ending of your story doesn’t come from inspiration… it comes from impact.
Memento Mori, Memento Vivere
I died three times in 2022. When I came back, I stopped fearing Death and started honoring it. The Reaper isn’t my enemy, he’s my reminder to live urgently, honestly, and without apology.
The Chosen
There’s a difference between faith and performance. Between humility and ego dressed up as revelation. I’ve stood close to death, and what I experienced wasn’t loud.
Stop Acting Like You’re Dead
Tragedy has a way of waking people up, briefly. But regret doesn’t come from what happens to us; it comes from how long we pretend we don’t have a choice. I don’t live that way anymore. And neither should you.
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.