"First off," I say, "I don't remember you being British the last time we talked, bud." This dude - whoever he is - has just popped up all random-like in the middle of my house, and he wants me to do him a favor? He's got another thing coming. "It's part of the agreement, innit?" he posits, his London dialect dripping with condescension. "Contract terms stated I'd hold on to your soul until I found a use for it. Well, I've found a use." "Come on , man." I say. "Not fair. I'm right in the middle of something." "The contract doesn't care if you're in the middle of something, Evan." The Devil leans against a wall, picking dirt from underneath his fingernails. "You can't give me, like, a month or something to clear it up?" "Unfortunately, no," he says. "Don't you want to know what the favour is?" "Not particularly." I honestly

photo by:  unsplash-logo Dmitry Ratushny I remember a time when the gas masks weren't necessary. Back then, we could traverse the world without so much as a second thought for the air we were breathing, the fear of airborne toxins and thin atmosphere not even the tiniest of blips on our radar. It had all been so simple: wake up, go to school or work, go home, sleep. Lather, rinse, repeat. Back when I was young, the overwhelming terror that held the world captive had been global warming: holes in the ozone layer caused by cans of hairspray and melting ice caps were going to kill us all. There had also been the looming possibility of nuclear war, but most of us preferred to shove that inevitability as far under the rug as we could. Never once did any of us suspect what actually would transpire. Well, most of us didn't have a clue anyway. The morning had started unremarkably. I was riding my bike to school when an entire fleet of chinooks flew overhead, their thunderous

Click  HERE  for more! "The door at the end of the hallway must never be opened," the old woman said, her milky white eyes nearly hidden by the sagging skin around her eyes. "The last time someone tried was back when I was a child."

As I'm sure you've noticed, my writing has been... lacking as of late. Not meaning that I haven't been posting quality writing; I just haven't been posting at all. Whoopsies. We've been here before. Let's not pretend like we're surprised. To be honest, I've lost confidence in my writing. I'm still fighting to take back my power from my previous relationship , and I've discovered that it's so much harder  than previously anticipated. When you spend 5+ years with someone who tells you constantly that you're untalented and worthless, it's incredibly difficult to regain a sense of "yeah, I can do this." You doubt every step of the way, and that makes the battle all the more difficult. So that's where I am. Now, I am  better. By quite a bit. Still a work in progress, and I don't foresee that changing drastically anytime soon. And that's ok. All of that being said, I am really itching to get back into re

9th grade. Study hall. All of the TVs were on. World forever changed.

I am the storm. #quotestoliveby via Instagram

Pondering this #wisdom today. #lorax #drsuess #tuesday #tuesdaymotivation #tuesdaythoughts via Instagram

*whispers* Hey there, you. Yes, you. I have a secret to tell you. *leans in close, the fear practically leaping out of my eyes* I'm fat.