HeyJaredEveryday Projector
Hi, I'm Jenny. I talk about creating an authentic meaningful life as an ADHD multi-passionate creative and lifelong black sheep, career misfit, and certified "most interesting person you know."
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 11
- Latest publication
- Sep 27, 2026
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- Earliest in this view
- Jul 13, 2026
Latest issues
What I Would Steal from the Spider (opens the original)
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I washed my windows yesterday. In the process, I couldn’t help but destroy the spiderwebs clinging to the glass. I do not mind the spiders, but the windows were dirty and they got in the way. It feels cold, the willingness to displace a creature from its home just to improve the view from inside my house, where I see the spiderwebs among the other bits and spots and streaks that mar the window’s clarity. But I know a few things about spiders. They are resilient. Their work is never done. They wi
I get this sad sort of knowing sometimes (opens the original)
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I get this sad sort of knowing sometimes. It happens upon me in moments of quiet solitude when I am allowed to feel weary, and my bones beg for rest. The knowing tells me that I am slipping into nothingness. That at the end of the path I am on, obscurity waits for me. It taunts me from the nebulous future, it dares me to continue fading away, until there is nothing left but the abandoned promise of a girl who once held the potential of a life within her. And I listen sometimes, and I look around
The Girl with the Ticking Heart (opens the original)
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There was a girl who passed her days behind a smudged pane of glass.Small. Fragile. Unequipped for the world. That’s what they said on the other side of doors when they thought she could not hear. But she heard many things. She heard her mother’s sighs. Her father’s curses. She heard the house creaking beneath their feet. She head the ticking of clocks, like the beating of her heart, every thump a second driving ceaselessly towards something that did not have a name. Some eternal future she coul
I worry that I am unknowable (opens the original)
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I worry that I am unknowable.I feel like this is a natural conclusion to come to at the age of 45, when I look at my adult life and cannot name a single person who has ever truly known all of me. I mean, can a person be entirely known? Is this some made up romantic notion sold to lovers of fiction and period dramas? If the concept of old souls and new souls is truly a thing, and we came here with wells of various depth, then perhaps those folks newly arrived here may be the kind of people who ar
The Girl in the Rain (opens the original)
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Sometimes when it rains she stands solid upon the earth and turns her face to the sky.She lets each tiny point of contact between her and the heavens remind her that she is still alive.They prick her skin, sharp and wet.They reach for her, desperate for a place to land, and she offers herself up for their consumption.They melt into her skin and she ache… Read more
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