The Outsider

When i first used to write stories and hide them away in my desk...i used to think that no one had ever been so lonely as i was and i used to write about people all alone. . . . i thought i was insane and i would write about how the only sane people are the ones... Continue Reading →


Here's a serious post. I started writing because I was sad. Why? Reasons. I had moved to a new city. My boss didn't like me. My student loans were strangling me. I was tired all the time. Life was bleh. So I started writing. It helped. It got me thinking about something other than myself. ... Continue Reading →

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