Part 1 of 6: Customized Content Creation. If I can do it, so can you.
I do not have a college degree, I have no technical writing training, and I’m probably a whole lot less creative than you.
But I still make a full-time living as a writer.
Don’t get me wrong, it took a hell of a lot of time and effort to get where I am now, oh and yes, I still have a ton of work to do; but it is those two attributes alone that have allowed me to weave this wondrous path of which I…
How to Cater to your Emotional, Physical, and Spiritual Self
It’s the simple yet honest truth- our lives are so busy and stressful that we more often than not forget to take care of ourselves! It can be all too easy to forget about your own health and well-being, ironically allowing the things that, in the end, don’t really matter all to entirely suffocate the most important aspects of life.
You might go weeks without spending quality time with the people you care about. …
Without making any money on Medium…
A little story with some bits of advice to showcase to you that there is, and I mean like, there REALLY is… Plenty of opportunities to make money with writing. It’s not as hard as you think and you really don’t need any experience at all if you are willing to put in the work! I promise, because I am a 24 year old who never went to college and I am literally sitting at my home desk with some serious comfort.
I’ll skip the long, drawn out story of my past business endeavors…
A lovely little short story with poetic influence.
She held her arms over the railing of the porch, her legs daintily crossed as her right forearm raised a cupped hand underneath her chin, holding up her head so that her eyes could fall into their hypnotic slumber. …
A Poem For Her.
She wore a checkerboard bikini
On the shoreline of a sea,
And the sun gave her a ray
To shine her aureate light on me.
It was warm and it was kind,
Like the subtle smile on her cheeks.
It was brilliantly colored,
The pallet every artist seeks.
The dimples of her face,
They were shaped just as the waves.
Rising tall towards the horizon,
Crashing into sea foam graves.
For they have lived a life of purpose
And they have traveled far and long,
To meet that very shore,
Playing but one last saccharine song.
A love ridden short story.
Her fingers stretched far and firm around the broad bowl of the wine glass that she so delicately balanced in her hand, the stem extending through her ring and pinky finger so that the base rest easy on the cap of her knee that was bent upwards, her opposite leg pushing the porch swing in which she sat rythmically back and forth. Her foot tapped the aged wood below in a percussion that played perfect with the squeaks of the very chains that held her up, and the crimson liquid in the glass, as well…
Three magical lessons that you will learn about yourself.
I could spend infinite hours reminiscing on the countless moments spent in the liquid of our mother Earth, paddling through the thick salt of a blue sea that brilliantly catches the rays of the sun above to then throw them deep inside the pores of my eastward facing skin, decorated with the shine of salt that sticks happily to the unshaven hairs on my cheeks.
Or of course those stormy days that the sky churns above, rumbling vibrations across the fetch of open space into the bones of those willing to…
A Poem Reflecting On Our Mornings Spent Together.
She said “Lets wake up and watch the sunrise”,
with a whistle of lust sent through her teeth.
And I knew it there and then,
She is the soul that’s meant for me.
For sunsets are too easy,
Seen more by humans eyes.
Awake for countless hours,
Caught after nine to five.
They do go well with red wine,
and that I will admit,
But they come too close to bed time,
and often effort is omit.
Sunrises they take so much more,
they take a will and drive. …