"I perceived in this moment that when the white man turns tyrant it is his own freedom that he destroys. He becomes a sort of hollow, posing dummy, the conventionalized figure of a sahib. For it is the condition of his rule that he shall spend his life in trying to impress the "natives," and so in every crisis he has got to do what the "natives" expect of him.

He wears a mask, and his face grows to fit it.”

– George Orwell, Shooting an Elephant

Light pierced through the cracks between the shattered roof tiles. The contours of the rubble, like that of a craggy mountain range of some far-off planet, are painted by the light’s celestial glow.

"Father?" he said.
as he coughed up dust,
then blood,
then his last.

Light pierced through the cracks between the shattered roof tiles. The contours of the rubble, like that of a craggy mountain range of some far-off planet, are painted by the light’s celestial glow.

"Father?" he said.
as he coughed up dust,
then blood,
then his last.

Is being human a turn-off?

Blogs used to be like public journals.

You write down thoughts as you would in a secret diary, but you share it with five or six pairs of eyes who happened to find your little corner of the internet. It’s a journal that occasionally talks back. Sometimes that helps.

My mind is constantly flooded with thoughts; news, ideas or random musings. “What’s on your mind?” invited Facebook, and I would answer. After a sentence or two, however, I pause. More often than not, it’s followed by Cmd+A, Delete.

Sometimes I do that with consideration to my audience. Do my friends really care that I dreamed about fighting a rainbow-spitting T-Rex?

Most it’s out of fear of my self image. Not just to my friends, but to prospective clients who – at that moment – could be considering to hire either me or Bill.

Bill (or John, Bob, Phil or what have you) and I have the same qualifications and experience. Bill however, blogs about his family, his dog or new recipes for grilled cheese sandwiches.

If I wrote everything I wanted to write, that would mean by blog will be filled with stories of heartbreak, depression, and how tough trying to get past it is. Most people dismiss that as melodrama and angst.

As a client, hiring a downer is just… a downer. “I want to hire a guy I can chat with during lunch, not a guy who spends his break walking around the block alone, crying.”

But being sad is human, is it not? If someone’s having a rough patch, they should get a free pass from all that judgment. You could say, “well not every thought is meant to be shared.” That’s true, but what stops you from sharing shouldn’t be because you need to sculpt the perfect online persona.

Maybe I’m just an advocate of transparency.

I have no secrets, nor am I dishonest. When your work is good I will say it’s good. When it’s bad, I’ll say it’s bad. That goes double for me. Here are my strengths, here are my weaknesses.

No surprise that doesn’t exactly fit well with the people around me.

Maybe they prefer that I keep my shortcomings secret until they’re trapped to deal with it.

I dunno. I’m rambling at this point.

Perhaps I’ll end this with, “The image of a little girl treating a wounded bird is sweet, but who really chooses to do that. Why Chiron when you can have Adonis.”

To exit is to admit defeat.
Is defeat, however, always proof of weakness?

Does that exit not lead to whole different room? One with a new set of challenges to conquer?

I say an aversion to defeat can be a bigger loss than an honest admission to one.

To exit is to admit defeat.
Is defeat, however, always proof of weakness?

Does that exit not lead to whole different room? One with a new set of challenges to conquer?

I say an aversion to defeat can be a bigger loss than an honest admission to one.