Tag Archives: truth

On Writing

I started this blog back in February of 2015 in my freshman year with a transformative Creative Writing class. The class itself wasn’t all that transformative, yeah I learned good writing techniques and words for things I was already experimenting with. But I was transformed. I learned that my words were important. That people wanted to understand my perspective on life whether that was my Grandma or people from the 122 countries who have visited my words.

When I first started I was writing literally every day with multiple pieces per day. I joined the NaPoWriMo movement in April where you are, supposed to, a write a poem per day for the whole month. I ended up posting 50 pieces on my blog that month. I was always scribbling in one of several notebooks or typing a free verse up. I loved how I felt having finished a poem, the satisfaction that occured.

I continued on at this level for a couple years. In the process my poems and creative essays were published nine times and I had my play produced by a major university. I posted at least 3 times a week. Sure it was difficult to keep to the schedule sometimes, but it was worth it.

I made some great connects with fellow bloggers, some by their words and others talking personally. I follow so many other people’s lives no matter whether it is told through poems, pictures, or write ups about their day. I have found a great community here on WordPress.

But last year my Junior year of testing, huge academic stress, and personal issues hit and my urge for writing slipped. This wasn’t a writer’s block, I’ve dealt with that many times. This was different. To be honest, for the past year almost all of my posts have been saved from years ago that I dug up to have something to show. Sure, writing still gave me pleasure and release, but it wasn’t as much needed as before. I yearned for it’s satisfaction, and yet somehow I didn’t feel like something was missing.

A spark of inspiration would hit that a year ago would have taken a good 250 words to explain, but it would pass before I could get my fingertips to keys. No matter how hard I tried no logical form of letters would escape my keyboard. (You can read a poem about this here)

It’s been over a year since I’ve written my novel. In a year’s time I’ve written only ten poems. I’ve written two short stories in a year. That’s it.

It’s sad.

But I’m accepting it.

However during this time, I have also written a play that received high praise and discussed options for touring. I also written another play to try to see if a third piece can be performed at the major university to break the record there for amount one person’s work has been performed. But my motivations were different for these. I wrote for others, not for myself.

I’ve been writing all my life (read a piece about it here) and have continued to keep a journal for five years. I still have been doing this and have no intention of stopping. It’s fitting though that the journal I’m writing in its cover says, “My Journal: The Original Blog”. Sometimes I just record what I did that day, a funny story, a perceptive. Other days I write lengthy opinions, prayers, parallelism to my life, poems, frantic thoughts.

I don’t want to say good-bye to this place made up of ones and zero and yet which is so so so much more. This has been my life for four years. I’ve written so much. Honestly, sometimes I stumble upons a piece that I completely have forgotten I wrote. Like the words are new to me and they came from my brain only a year ago.

I miss writing poetry the most, a form of expression that I thought was silly years ago. It is true thought captured on a page. (I explain what poetry is to me here)

I will continue to be here. And my blog will continue to be here. But my blog and I will not continue to be here together.

This send off is hard. It’s heavy. It’s thick. But it’s not messy. I knew it was coming for a time.

Writing is still and always will be a major part of my life, but it will depend which part. Writing for everyone and anyone, for a small group of readers, or simply for me.

So I’ll still be around, writing and wandering. But this blog is going to be static for a while. I don’t know how long a while is, but there are 432 other pieces of mine to read.

See me later,


The Protectors

Supers don’t just protect the innocent from Villains

Supers don’t just save the damsel in distress

Supers don’t just rescue the hostages


They protect their loved ones

by keeping secrets

The heroes save the closest people to them from worries

The Powered-People rescue their family and friends from the potential Villains

All by feeding them falsehood


They feed them easy fibs to slip down their throats

But it gets harder and harder to come up with excuses

and the close friends and family have to chew through the deception

And soon the Capes have to force-feed themselves the untruth to keep on living

To say they are helping the loved ones

by breaking the ninth commandment

That it is better this way


That they haven’t crossed the line that they are fighting against

That they are only protecting the loved ones

Because that’s what Supers do


Just a Feeling

When a secret identity and the hero persona collide

When the meek and mild know something they shouldn’t


When the hero has extra information

Regardless of how

And the matter comes to the amigos of the identity’s attention

All the Supers say, ‘You just need to trust me.’

And yet they can’t muster up enough trust to release their duality

They have courage to rush into a burning building

and stop the Super-Villain

But not enough to tell the ones they love

That they are the face inside the mask

By asking for their trust

The ordinary lie

The Truth

The Trust

The Lie

To keep the mask hidden from the closest people

And for some reason the closest people are closest to the Capes


And so they say ‘I just have a







This is what Clark Kent tells Lois Lane

This is what Matt Murdock tells Foggy Nelson

This is what Barry Allen tells Iris West

This is what Peter Parker tells Mary Jane Watson

This is what I tell you

Truthfully, I lie

  • Truly, I tell you.
  • Believe me when I say this.
  • It’s True
  • Don’t you understand?!
  • I’m not lying
  • I will not lie to you.
  • My big bad black lie, is the truth.
  • Why should I tell the truth.
  • Have I ever spoken anything but the truth?
  • The words that leave my mouth are not false.
  • I will not ever cross you.
  • It’s . . . it’s all true . . .
  • Trust me!
  • You don’t deserve the truth!
  • I will not lie to you, again.
  • Please . . . I’m begging you . . . trust me, trust in me.
  • Trust, that’s all I need you to do.
  • “Truth,” HIT ” IS,” PUNCHNOT,” KICKIN” STABMY” shots firedNATUre . . .”
  • Believe in me, please, trust in me.
  • All I ask is trust.
  • It’s true, if not . . . death will claim us her treasure.
  • Trust, that is all I NEED you to do.
  • Trust not in me, but of the one who spoke them to me; he died to tell.
  • It’s the complete . . . the complete truth.
  • Belief is not trust, but what you speak of is true.
  • Is it true?
  • Do I believe in the prophecy of what you speak?
  • Truth . . .
  • Life is full of lies, but this is not one.
  • Never again, will I lie to you.
  • I don’t trust him, but truly I tell you, it’s the truth.
  • I do not preach false teachings.
  • This is the only time I will tell the truth to the likes of you, scum!
  • My word is truth.
  • “All that,” he waves his hands signifying what he just told, “was a lie; this is the truth, but it can never be told.”
  • This is true as it is true that I love you.
  • Truth is what I am speaking of.
  • Verily, I say unto ye.
  • “The truth, will be told in time,” he says jumping over the ledge, “but today is not that day!”
  • Why do you think what I say is the truth?
  • All that I am . . . all that I am meant to be . . . comes together at this point in time; it’s the truth, and I accept it.
  • I will die for the truth.
  • The trust is the saddest thing in the world, truly I tell you.
  • Not a lie.
  • I will not lie to you anymore.
  • What is the truth anymore?
  • Lies ARE the truth, but in disguises; truly I tell you.
  • The opposite of truth . . . is what my life consists of life.
  • Why tell the truth?
  • Truth, did I not tell you already?!
  • Lying is so much more imaginative, why ever tell the truth . . .
  • Whole truth?
  • Truth is . . . I lie.
  • I tried to tell the truth once, it almost got me killed.
  • Are you lying?
  • If you read between my lines of lies, you will find my truth.
  • Where does one even begin to tell the truth, when all they’ve done is lie?
  • We all lie . . . our perceptive is a lie to someone else’s truth.
  • Once upon a time, I use to tell the truth, and then came happily ever after of me lying.
  • Lying is just a better version of the truth.
  •  I’m dying, truly I tell you.
  • Why do you lie?
  • I’m not lying anymore!
  • Am I lying?
  • What good has the truth ever gotten you?
  • Truly I tell you, it’s HOT in the desert.
  • Why tell ME the truth?
  • I’m living . . . that’s a lie.
  • What is truth?
  • I don’t know how to tell the truth.
  • Do I deserve the truth?
  • Why do you lie to me?
  • Truth is not an option.
  • When do I have to tell the truth?
  • The truth is . . . no, the lie is –
  • Life’s great lie is believing in the truth.