It was 6:30 a.m. when I stepped outside after being awake all night.
I had been writing — moving from one idea to another — creating bits and pieces of things that mostly aren’t ready to be published. Some of it had been for a book. Some had been for YouTube videos. Some had been for film projects. And part of it was for a ridiculous parody ad that I’ll use as a minor piece of a video.
Most of what I create isn’t great. Some of it is mediocre. Some of it never sees the light of day. But every now and then, something clicks and I’m able to make something really good. And when that happens, I know it.
As I stepped onto my front steps, the light breeze and gentle warmth outside were perfect. I looked above me to a beautiful moon peeking through partly cloudy skies.
Everything felt right. I was exhausted after working all night. But I felt alive.

In cold and dehumanized culture, many yearn to feel human again
Keep your euphemisms straight: It’s ‘patriotism,’ not ‘nationalism’
Surreal dream wakes, shakes me; which is reality, which is dream?
Thugs attacking private property aren’t anarchists; they’re vandals
What will you do when ‘electing the right people’ doesn’t change things?
We repeat what we fail to repair, so I keep re-learning old lessons