Writers Block

"Welp—Five Years Later, and the Block Finally Broke."

Time flies when you’re… not writing, apparently. Five years since my last blog post? Hell of a writer’s block—or maybe just a life avalanche. The pandemic didn’t just disrupt the world in 2020; it threw my world into orbit like a rogue satellite. Some lessons come late, but class starts whenever it damn well pleases.

My last book, Petty Poetry (2022), was a grimoire of creative darkness—a chance to let my inner poet snarl on the page. If you haven’t read it yet, you’re denying yourself a piece of future infamy. (Mark my words: If this book doesn’t make me infamous now, it’ll haunt the reprints long after I’ve left this dimension. Ask Poe—glory loves a corpse.)

But that’s the society we’ve got. Pay the dead, ignore the living. What used to be tragic is now just… normal. Not here to moralize—just here to dodge the chaos. These days, you’d need a warrant to find me. I leave the house for three things: food, the gym, and a soul-sucking job (yes, it’s as bad as it sounds). Sunlight? Overrated.

I’ll rant about society’s circus later. For now, consider this a PSA: I’m still alive. Updated the site, scrubbed a few bugs, and—shocker—dropped a real photo. (No, you don’t get to see my full face. I’m a Scorpio—mystique is mandatory.)

Welcome back to the blog. I even gave it a fitting title: "Writer’s Block." Now get off the block—before I haunt you, too.