HeyJaredI am fine, really
Essays, poems and stories I have to tell in order to stay sane.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 5
- Latest publication
- Sep 17, 2026
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- Earliest in this view
- Jul 12, 2026
Latest issues
I Want, for Once, to Know Something While It Is Happening (opens the original)
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I haven’t written since July, which is how I have come to believe that I can no longer write. I lose abilities the way I lose socks. Socks and hair ties. I lose those really easily. Losing things is one of the more consistent abilities I have. I have had it my whole life.Or maybe I just don’t want to write. Something very bad happened to me this summer. And something very good happened too. I have avoided writing about either because once I write something down, I know what it means. The meaning
Why Is Everyone Drinking Tap Water Like It’s No Big Deal? (opens the original)
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This summer I’ve been obsessed with tap water. My grandma has a superpower. She says the most fascinating and smart things in the least interesting or intellectual way. The same part of my brain lights up when I go vintage shopping and when I listen to my grandma’s stories. Between the names you’ve never heard before and the dates you don’t need to know, there’s always something worth hearing.The thing is I’ve been dealing with a big problem this summer. Apparently, I’ve lost the ability to poop
I Hate Summer Because It’s Incompatible With Having a Human Body and My Grandpa Is Dead (opens the original)
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I just got really mad at my boyfriend because I told him I was sad, and he said, “Don’t be.” He doesn’t get it. I ate watermelon today, and I didn’t take the seeds out, so I swallowed them. As he did. Every summer before this one. But he won’t do it in any summer after. So I am allowed to be sad. What does being allowed to be sad even mean? I wonder who came up with this whole needing-permission-to-cry requirement, because it doesn’t belong to me.Sadness is part of my life. I want to take pride
The Art of Turning Your Wounds into Comedy (opens the original)
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I think you can see someone’s childhood in the jokes they make. Innocent. Goofy. Absurd. Painful. I’ve always been fine. The times I wasn’t, I added really to the sentence. And a joke. So that’s comedy for me. A way out of my emotional isolation. A way to show my wound. For a long time, it was the only way I knew how.I think humor is such a powerful tool. Most people treat humor as something joyful. For me, it meant survival. For other people, it becomes criticism even seduction. There are a lot
I Hyperfixate on Random Bullshit (opens the original)
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Usually, when people ask me why I don’t write more, the real answer is that I spend two hours a day doomscrolling reels of Jell-O turning into sand. I hate myself for this. I can’t risk this person hating me as much as I do. Once it belongs to someone else, it stops being a private thought and becomes a fact. So if I say, “It’s because I spend two hours a day watching Jell-O turn into sand,” then they say, “You’re a terrible person, and you’re useless.” Or maybe they won’t. Probably the only one
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