Author: Adam

  • Naming the Quiet Distance Inside Me

    Naming the Quiet Distance Inside Me

    I felt lonely before it was cool.

    Every time I try to bridge the gap in my relationships, I find myself still building. But instead of building connection, I build defenses — defenses against judgment, against being misunderstood. What I really feel often comes out through writing or music. But no one reads it. No one hears it.


    Losing Touch, Slowly

    Growing up, I always had friends and plenty to do. Now, most of my connection comes through family or online. I love my family, and I spend a lot of time with them. But with most of them, I can’t be fully honest or sincere.

    When I look back, I can’t remember the last strong, true relationship I had — whether with a friend, a partner, or even a relative. Something keeps me from opening up. There’s a wall I haven’t figured out how to bring down.

    Am I the problem?

    Maybe my loneliness comes from not knowing how to speak freely — not just with others, but with myself. I say “I’m fine” because it’s hard to name what I really feel. It’s hard to put emotions into words.

    I’m a thinker. I need time to process things before I respond. But in a world that moves this fast, where quick replies are expected, that space is hard to find — and even harder to ask for.


    What I’m Starting to Understand

  • Do Good Guys Still Win?

    My grandfather loves old western shows and movies. Over the last few years, I’ve sat with him countless times while they played on his television. I’ve never fully understood the draw — most of them follow the same structure with little variation.

    The good guy is honest, true, and virtuous. The bad guy? Underhanded, sneaky, and greedy. The story usually begins with someone being wronged — a robbery, a betrayal, a town in trouble. Then our hero steps in, unravels the villain’s plot, gets into a bar fight or a shootout, narrowly escapes death, and inevitably saves the day. Corny jokes are exchanged, and before you know it, the next episode starts.

    And yet, I’ve grown to enjoy these old shows.

    Maybe it’s because I once saw the world in the same way — where good always triumphs, where truth wins out, and justice shows up right on time. That belief was probably shaped early on: by family, by faith, by the stories I was told through culture and media. Or maybe it’s simpler than that. Maybe I just associate westerns with my grandpa — the quiet comfort of sitting beside him, sharing something familiar.

    But I think there’s more to it. There’s a certain innocence about these stories that feels rare now. A kind of moral clarity that doesn’t often exist in real life. Maybe that’s what makes them special.

    Maybe the real appeal isn’t the story itself, but the world it offers — one where right and wrong are clear, where justice arrives on time, and the good guys still ride off into the sunset. I’m not sure I believe the good side always wins anymore, but there’s still something comforting about watching them try. And even if I don’t care much for the plot, I’ll keep showing up — for the quiet moments, the familiar music, and the time spent beside someone I love.

  • Lightning struck

    First off I would like to congratulate myself on the successful launch of my new blog. Official and everything.

    Second times the charm. I wonder what my first comment will be?

    Thirdly I feel a wave of motivation that will course through my veins into this blog. Expect frequent posts, updated statuses, lost puppies found and maybe an ad or two but don’t worry I haven’t sold my soul just yet.

    Last but not least I hope to spread my wings a little and venture into possibly having interviews or maybe a guest writer ooo how provocative.