The View

I rearranged my apartment this week in a burst of spring cleaning initiative and my general unease with stagnation. I’ve lived in this apartment for 10 months, but my mind believes it to be longer. I’m a nomad at heart.

I knew when I began shifting furniture that I wanted to invite more creativity into the space. After all, my writing place was in the kitchen. I have four rooms in my apartment: the bedroom, the bathroom, the living room, and the kitchen, with a small dining space attached.

The small dining space was my writing space. It was faced toward the wall, artificial light pouring down on me, and a mound of dirty dishes in the background. It was a muse black hole, but it’s where I was getting my writing done.

So where was I going to move my writing space? I wanted to see nature, so I knew it should be at one of my windows. I had four eligible windows in my space. One overlooks my apartments parking space, and two others face the parking lot of the complex next door. Facing the busy street it was then.

At first, I loved it. It was the window with the best light, the sun doesn’t set on this side of the building, which meant I won’t be blinded by it. But as my view expanded, The cars became a distraction. As I said, it’s a fairly busy street. And it’s a direct route to the busiest bar area in the city, so even at night, there are constantly cars going back and forth below my perch.

This surely couldn’t work out. I couldn’t focus on my writing with all the traffic constantly pulling my attention away. But my view expanded one more time. To just beyond the window sill with the perfect lighting, beyond the street and sidewalks below with the bustling vehicles. In that picture above, if you look past the black metal fence and the trees, is the cemetery.

When I first moved to this apartment, the idea of living across from a cemetery didn’t bother me. Cemeteries have never been the place of spooky lore and undead for me, so I was content. However, I didn’t know that it would inspire me so much. And reawaken my muse.

The thing that helped spark that rebirth was the constant reminder of the inevitable: death. It’s coming for everyone, and we have to make the most of our opportunities. We can’t wait to make moves because someday, there won’t be any moves to make.

I want to start that novel, that podcast and take care of myself now. Regret is poison, but you don’t experience it until it’s too late. Make sure it isn’t too late.



Missed Connection

We landed in Denver

You were headed back home

I was doing the same



The three-hour flight disappeared

We lucked into three seats

One splitting us 

You took the window

You liked to watch the sunset


We spoke like old flames

Rehashing beautiful memories

And lamenting love lost

Despite having just met


When we landed, we walked together

Bumping elbows

Barely noticing our path forward

Luggage doing little to slow us


We reached your gate

Los Angeles was calling

And I had to reroute myself


We hugged and started to part

I made a joke about seeing you later

You laughed and boarded your plane


I looked at my ticket 

My flight left ten minutes ago

And I never got your number


Photo by Leio McLaren (@leiomclaren) on Unsplash

Coffee Shop

You know it when you find it

The aroma rushes into your nose

The beans aren’t burnt, fragrant

The parking lot was not full or empty

People know good coffee

But it can’t be full

A full coffee shop contains you

You might as well have stayed at home


There are staples, people you see everywhere

The older man in the corner reading the newspaper

The young entrepreneur working on an idea

The writer, with space to let their mind roam,

Creating next to the window

A small group of twenty-year-olds

Catching up on college or relationships


So what ruins this image of perfection?

The boisterous businessman on his phone

The group of people loudly laughing at nothing

Or too many of the regulars

Cramming in because it’s “their spot”

Slowly boxing everyone in


So, when you find it

The perfect place to escape

Hold on to it

Cherish it like the gem it is

It inevitably won’t last


Until then, learn about it

Find the ebbs and flows 

Find those perfect hideaways 

Communicate with it in a way you haven’t before


Because when it comes to an end 

Whether it’s amicable or torrid

You’ll be on your own again


Homeless, you’ll search

Looking for the next, perfect match


You’ll know it when you find it


Photo by Kris Atomic on Unsplash