Thoughts on Death

It is approximately the eleventh anniversary of the day I began writing my big bad book. It currently stands at 103,741 words. I might have finished it by now, but I haven’t written anything since Foxy died.

Forget Home

It’s easier to forget that I have another life on the other side of the ocean than to admit I’ve been neglecting that life. I’ve spoken more french over the last year than I have spoken to my mom at all. It’s only now, with a week of classes left to my entire university experience that I’m being forced to see how much damage I’ve done to my home life.