I have two untitled projects on burners at the moment. One is a satire that's been left to simmer on a back alley stove in Wackland (more specifically, with a quaint existence in the bizarro horror genre). This story includes a literal devouring of one's own flesh for ritual cleansing purposes.
My other current project is a tell-all, confessional of sorts. Through a carefully constructed paper sanctuary I am allowing myself to be completely vulnerable and honest in order to share what it's like in the mind of someone who clashes with the intrusive and obsessive thoughts elicited in and characteristic of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Essentially, I have a dirty needle on my record player and my songs skip and repeat, A LOT, but I work ever-so diligently to keep those songs a'playin'.
In this work, I strive to describe what it's like living with OCD with three justifications in mind:
1. My own benefit or detriment (inconclusive).
2. To let folks (who struggle in this same manner) know they're not alone in this bleak and trippy state.
3. Bold aspirations, that I may offer some assistance to those who seek comprehension in the perplexities of this illness.
Of course, I am only an expert in my own experiences, and my proficiency in self is flawed at best.