Buffering Diaries
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Losing Peace, Finding Sarcasm
Some rooms hold ambition. Mine just holds me, a laptop with a crooked leg, and rain that thinks it’s important.
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Grey Hour Poem – Stillness, Dusk, and the Ache Before Sadness
Not quite sadness—just the ache that comes before it. The hour of still things.
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Rx Roulette: Chronic Illness Prescription Errors That Keep on Giving
Four boxes of prescription drugs and three years of playing unpaid lab rat. I’ve mastered the art of being ill — they’ve perfected the fart of faulting at convenience. Every purge feels like an end-of-season sale, except nothing’s on discount and I’m the only one paying.
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Waking Up with Anxiety and Trauma: The Quiet Horror We Still Don’t Talk About
Waking up with anxiety and trauma triggers isn’t rare. This piece explores how silence, shame, and survival shape our mornings.
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When Silence Is the Wound: A Story of Emotional Abandonment
There’s a story I never let go of — not because I wanted to hold it, but because it never stopped holding me. I howled, not for saving, but for acknowledgment. What I got was silence. And maybe, just maybe, I did play the victim — but only to the one I hoped would finally see me.
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Life Update: Held Together with Safety Pins and Coffee
Black coffee. Pink salt. A foot that refuses to elevate. Zoe’s in charge. My back’s on strike. The exercise bike’s a towel rack. Life’s paused somewhere between hospitals, sarcasm, and unopened tags. I’m not here to inspire. I’m here to exist — unfiltered.
