Spencer Moseley

I'm currently working on a short story that's taken me two months so far, and there's still more work to do. That's why I haven't posted here in a while. I can't say I've worked on it everyday, but I can say it's the hardest I've worked on any story in my life.  This blog will be unedited word vomit about my life today.  Uncertainty.  This one word shakes me to my core. It haunts me. As a person with high anxiety and a tendency to obsess, this reality of our human existence affects me in acute ways. And I'm happy to know that other people feel this way too.  I'm learning not to be fooled by those who say "I know what I want". They feel like they know what they want, and they make a decision to follow that feeling even when contradictory feelings arise from time to time. These folks are like "houses built on rocks" (some Jesus parable). And that's a good thing. With nothing to ground us, we become like leaves floating f...

 "For now we see through a glass darkly. But then shall we see face to face. Now I know in part. But then shall I know just as I also am known." -St. Paul (1 Corinthians 13:12) *********************************************************************************** Me: I started to realize I had thrown the baby out with the bathwater when I left religion. Now I see it as— Em: The baby out with the bathwater? Me: Yeah ( she must just now get how I'm using the metaphor ), I realize now that some of it was good. Like the music and some of the results of theology. Em: I really want to use that expression and take it home with me.  Me: *Pause* It's a common expression.  *Seeing she now realizes, to her embarrassment, that she already knew the expression* Ppppttttt HAHAHAHALAUGHLAUGHLAUGHLAUGHLAUGHLAUGHLAUGHLAUGH...  *********************************************************************************** I'm amazed that every human being is a walking cosmos of experience, emotion...

I had never seen so much snow. I struggled to avoid the drip of hot candle wax on my hands as we processed around the seminary grounds, re-living Mary and Joseph's search for an inn. I held a candle in one hand and the "Pidiendo Posada" song sheet in the other so I could join the choir singing verses like, Don’t be inhuman; Have mercy on us. The God of the heavens will reward you for it. As the song ended, we entered the seminary, lit only by candles. We said a prayer. A priest said, "Christ our King." Everyone responded, "Thy Kingdom Come." And the dining room burst with life. Waiters poured into the dining hall with platters stacked high with rack-of-lamb and pitchers brimming with strange, delicious drinks.  My dad sat across from me. We had flown in together for the "Christmas Program" where Middle School students could test out seminary life. After our flight landed, we had driven the rest of the way in a top-down Mustang, singing every ...

I ended Coldplay's Sky Full of Stars with a strong high note I was proud of.  "You already know you killed it," she told me as I walked past her from the karaoke stage.  "Haha, thank you!" I said, giving her a fist bump. Her dark hair drew me in. "I'm Spencer," I said.  "I'm Maya," she said. The dive bar was poppin', so I sauntered about with compliments like "I love your hair," or "You should be selling out concerts." Some scoffed but most talked.  "Blow it in my face," I told an older lady vaping. She told me she lived an hour away before she inhaled. Then she breathed coconut-strawberry goodness into my face, and I bought a round of lemon drops for the group. She gave me and Maya her number. She gave me fuck-me-eyes. "I doubt she'll remember I texted her," said Maya.  "Uh huh," I said. Every couple songs I would crack a joke with Maya, careful to include her male companion....

I took quick steps to the break room, knowing one my coworker would catch up if I was too slow.  "Headin' to the fridge?" one asked as I opened the fridge door. "Yeah," I said, grabbing my lunchbox. The fridge smelled like deviled eggs and sandwich meats. I took my time, but my coworkers waited by the elevators. "Oh y'all could've gone down," I said.  "We wouldn't leave without you," they replied. I grimaced. All of our microwaves take three minutes. Three fucking minutes. Even with napkins I can't hardly touch my glass tupperware without burning a fingertip. Damn thin napkins. The lunch conversation dragged. I tried to pick it up with an off-color joke. It was met with discomfort, but I managed a pained smile. "But what do you guys think about Hiroshima?" a coworker asked.  I remained silent, my pained smile becoming more painful.  "I think it made the Japanese think twice," said another.  I piled my greas...

The streets looked so good from stage left, I'll miss the people.  I was more down to earth with them. What if this isn't fun? I bet it's not fun.  He crept out, crowd cheering. He said a joke or two, what a laugh. He longed for stage left. Wished he could run. His mind a blur, his heart in his head. But he went back out,  The crowd roared applause He charged stage left,  The manager indifferent. But he couldn't return— The streets, a shadow. Of the stage he now knew Knew intimately, not fully. Time will make me more comfortable, He hopes. But the streets look good too.

I saw her at brunch. I saw her and him and her and couldn't decide which I preferred. If I asked out one, I'd not ask out the rest, and I struggle with turning down options. So I ended up deciding on none and leaving with regret.  But I do this to myself, so this isn't exactly a cry for sympathy. It's how I've been living for a while, chasing but not deciding, running, but not crossing the finish line. Pining for the end result isn't the same as making that desire known.  And proposing, that act of courage, is where life happens. That moment when instead of looking at the lake, I bait and cast and wait.  So what holds me back? I ask myself while eating ice cream in a living room, my dog on my chest. What holds me back is always the same: fear. That fear that dims my light, that doubt that inspires inaction.  And I know there is no therapy that can bring me out of my shell. My therapist can't act for me. He can listen to me complain, sure. He can offer helpfu...