oh, I’m Ron.

I love

Jesus

Deb

my kids

Kali (my grand)

family

a few good friends

Brooklyn

dogs

Autumn

pecan pie

peanut butter anything

the sound of kids laughing

80s nostalgia

bookshops

toy aisles

teen dramas

late-night pancakes

diners

I hate

my nose

losing my hair

Crocs

August

last-minute plans

meetings

crowds

know-it-alls

rude people

drama

politics

that hospital smell

change

funerals

I miss

my dad

my hair

polite people

Saturday morning cartoons

A world without smart phones

Toys “R” Us

video stores

Sundays when stores were closed

how Christmas used to feel

If you saw me at the store or at work, you’d see the nicest guy in the world. I smile. I listen. I play my part.

But the truth is… I’m hurting.

I didn’t fully understand that until recently. I just knew I stopped calling people. Stopped showing up. Told myself I was busy or tired… but that wasn’t it.

I’ve been avoiding rooms that remind me of loss. Because when you walk into them, you feel everything you’ve been trying not to feel.

I’ve lost people. Roles that defined me. The version of myself that felt at home. And instead of dealing with it, I withdrew. Watched life from a distance.

I write because it’s the only place I don’t have to pretend I’m fine. The nice guy is for them. This writing is for me.

Some of us are carrying more than we admit. Avoiding rooms we can’t walk back into yet.

This is me finally saying it.

My truth. My gospel.

11:10 p.m.

There’s this kind of curiosity nobody really talks about.

Wondering who you’d be if you made one different choice. Said yes instead of no.

Or no instead of yes.

That one keeps me up sometimes.

I don’t know what it is about cereal at night.

The urge to have a big bowl of Apple Jacks still hits this late… and if I’m being real, it’s comforting. No bills, no emails, just quiet.

Everything else in my life feels so scheduled that a random midnight bowl feels like a small act of freedom.

I used to think peace was something you earned.

Like I’ll relax when I finish everything … when the week is over.

But peace isn’t something you wait for. It’s something you intentionally add into your days. Little quiet moments inside all the noise.

That’s what I’m figuring out.

I can watch a movie about friends, love, or success and get pulled into it. Even long for it.

But really going for it? That’s hard.

That means putting yourself out there. And possibly getting rejected.

That’s the part that makes you hesitate.

11:47 p.m.

People build walls after getting hurt because they never want to feel that again. Sometimes the wall gets so strong even family can’t see through it, and absences get read as rejection when it’s really pain in disguise. Pain doesn’t always look like sadness, it can look like silence, distance, even coldness. And when you’re in it, explaining it feels almost impossible. So instead, people pull back to protect themselves. I know that feeling. I’ve lived in it.

Here’s something hard I’ve had to sit with.

We teach people how to treat us.

If you’re always the strong one. The fine one. The one who doesn’t need anything. People believe it.

And then one day you wonder why nobody checks on you.

But you trained them not to.

That one hurts to admit.

Went in for batteries… ended up standing there holding a bag of Snickers like I was 12 again.

This lady walked past me, and kinda chuckled

I just shook my head and smiled back.

Life gets heavy… but every now and then, something small will catch you off guard and remind you who you were before it did.

I’ve been functional my whole life. I showed up to work. Did what I had to do. Kept moving.

But functional isn’t the same as healed.

I’ve been running on a coping strategy I built when I was young just to survive disappointment. It worked. It got me through. But it also kept me in the same loop for a long time.

12:06 a.m.

To be honest, I had a really good childhood. Great parents. Great Christmases. My birthday is Dec 22nd… three days before Christmas. My mom made me a cake.

It wasn’t that I was overlooked. It was just always close to Christmas, so I never really had separate birthday parties or anything big. I even remember mentioning it once to my third grade guidance counselor.

Somewhere along the way, I think I just learned not to look forward too much. Not to depend too much on things or people showing up a certain way.

It wasn’t dramatic. Just quiet.

The weird part is I didn’t notice it until much later. But I can see it now… it shaped me. I tend to just handle things myself. Not because I don’t care. I just stopped expecting.

I heard someone say, “Children make mistakes. Adults make decisions,” and I kind of get it.

I do believe adults are responsible for their actions. But I also remind myself that not everything hurtful is intentional… and yeah, we all still make dumb mistakes.

That’s why I try not to take everything personal.

Some days I don’t want to think about anything deep.

I just want something sweet and a dumb movie.

No lessons. No overthinking. Just disappear into chocolate and laughs for a while.

And honestly… I think that’s enough sometimes.

12:35 a.m.

After sitting with it for a while, I think I finally know what I actually want. Not everything, but the core of it.

To be seen. To be remembered. To have someone notice you’re missing and actually check in. To matter enough for someone to say, “Hey… are you okay? I’ve been thinking about you.”

I don’t think I want much. I just don’t want to feel invisible.

That’s it. That’s what sits underneath it all.

I saw her when I was ten. Sitting across the street with two braids on the stoop with her friend Toni. And that was it.

I don’t fully understand what drove me. The way I’m wired, it makes no sense that I pursued one person for decades.

Cards. Flowers. Stuffed animals. Notes. A kind of persistence that probably looked ridiculous from the outside. Even to me now.

Other girls liked me. Some really liked me. But I brushed them off. Debbie was the one.

Maybe she represented something I couldn’t name back then. Maybe I’m still figuring that out.

It wasn’t a fairytale. She wasn’t easy to get. And maybe that was never the point.

I don’t always know what that means about me… about attachment, about worth, about rejection. Whether it’s something I should be proud of… or still trying to understand.

Whatever it is, when I look at her now, I still see that same girl across the street.

I just finished a small 26-page booklet called Pancakes, Love & Nobodies. It’s an easy read, a love letter to diners, the few places left where you belong and no one’s performing. No fancy lattes. You just show up, sit down, and the waitress calls you "hon" and actually means it.

It’s about pancakes, quiet love, and the people who don’t need an audience to matter. If that sounds like your kind of thing, check it out here. If not, no worries at all.

1:17 a.m.

I tell everyone grace is enough, but some nights I wondered if grace had a limit.

Too many screw ups meant God would leave.

But when I whisper, “I’m tired,”

there’s this quiet answer, “I know. I got you”

Grace doesn’t clock out.

Like a good friend

who’s never locked the door on you

1:45 a.m.

One minute you’re young, friends everywhere. Late nights. Spontaneous plans.

Then one day, you look around, alone in a cubicle with a kale salad. When did life go from carefree to crickets? But then I realize there’s a soft grace in having made it through the fire. I had my wild years. No regrets. And now I’m just learning to be okay with the quiet, and a decent salad.

2:03 a.m.

Honestly? No one’s coming to rescue you. You keep waiting, hoping someone will, but that’s not how it works.

If anything’s going to happen, it’s on you.

Making the first move… that’s hard. My chest tightens just thinking about it.

What if I look stupid? What if it blows up in my face?

Yet... I know I have to. Because if I don’t, nothing changes.

2:28 a.m.

I saw him through a dusty toy shop window and had to stop. GI Joe wasn't just plastic, he was my co-pilot, from Christmas morning through endless Saturday mornings. I brought him home because, honestly, being an adult feels like a horrible scam and I’m still mourning the kid I used to be. I needed something in my home that didn’t expect anything from me. Just an old friend to help me remember a time when life felt safe.

2:50 a.m.

I’ve got this Franklin plush on my desk, and while some think it’s just cute, he’s a heavy symbol for me. It took a tragedy and a bold letter for him to even exist. When I look at him, I’m reminded of how often belonging in America feels conditional. Like I’m here, but still a guest. Franklin’s existence came from loss and courage, and that makes him comforting, but also heavy. He reminds me that being seen is possible, and that it has always come at a cost

I’m cranking this up today because it’s easily one of the greatest movie soundtracks ever made. But honestly? I think I listen to it so loud because the music fills the silence. I watch these movies and think, "I wish I had friends like this," because real-life connection feels so much harder to find than it used to be. It’s more than just good songs;

it’s a temporary escape into a world that feels a little less lonely.

We don’t lack men; we lack gentlemen.

I think for a lot of us, we try so hard to be the "gentlemen" because we're scared that if we let our guard down, people would be turned off by the anger or the mess we actually carry. For me, that "respect" has become a suit of armor.

But it’s not just about strength, it’s about choosing how to use it. It’s about handling your issues with grace, without making everyone else carry them for you.

Men show up. Gentlemen show respect.

It’s not about strength, it’s about how you carry it.

You can tell a great movie when the credits roll, and nobody moves

Whole Foods feels like a performance. We’ve all got our “I care about ingredients” face on, but half the time I’m just there to feel a hit of ego, like if I buy the sustainably farmed oil, I’m somehow winning at life. It’s a lifestyle exhibit, and I’m a part of it. I just want to grab my oat-infused milk and go, while pretending I’m not just as confused about life as the person in the next aisle.

What’s something small right now, at this exact moment, that would make you feel even a little bit lighter? Could be anything: a song, a snack, looking at the street outside.

DR was rare. She was half my age, like a little sister or daughter in spirit, but we instantly clicked at work over our shared love of teen dramas. She’d fill me in on everything happening in the city—restaurants, ticket deals, and shows she thought I’d like. She had this way of making you feel seen that somehow made the day feel lighter.

Now that she’s moved on to a new opportunity, her absence hits hard. She was the one person who made me feel like more than just a gear in the machine. Finding that kind of connection is hard these days, and when it’s gone, you notice just how much you were leaning on it to feel human at work.

Back then, connection came easily. We all shared the same limited choices, so a simple, “Did you catch that episode last night?” could pull you into everyone else’s orbit. There was a shared rhythm.

Now, that rhythm is gone. We’re islands with headphones in… scrolling, consuming, living inside private bubbles. We don’t even say “good morning” anymore. It feels awkward. Intrusive.

The truth is, I spend half my day staring at my own screen because I’m too tired to put in the effort to reach out. Then I go home and feel the weight of that silence. It’s a lonely kind of freedom to have endless options but no one to talk to about them. We’re all in the same house, just different rooms. And some nights, I realize those “meaningless” watercooler conversations were the only thing keeping me from feeling invisible.

It hits differently knowing it used to be easy, and now, even when I’m starving for connection, I’m part of the reason it’s so quiet.

I was never the explorer.

I was the kid who loved good stories, who loved listening to the curious mind explain the how and the why.

Ty was that curious kid. He didn’t just want the ice cream; he wanted to know how it was churned. That holy curiosity makes thinkers, teachers, inventors.

Somewhere along the way, our wonder was stifled. We were taught to survive, not explore. To consume the ice cream before there was none left, not ask how it came to be.

I learned to listen, to appreciate the story without stepping into it. I didn’t wander. I adapted.

Seeing Ty still ask questions in his sixties is beautiful. But it’s also a reminder of what slipped away from the rest of us. He kept his magic while the world taught me to be a gear.

I’m grateful for his light. But tonight, I mourn the questions I never felt brave enough to ask.

Doing everything “right” doesn’t mean things will work out. I’ve spent a lot of my life thinking that if I just followed the rules, the universe owed me a win, but then I read something like Ecclesiastes 9:11. The fastest runner doesn’t always win; the skillful aren’t always wealthy. It’s all decided by chance and timing. Truthfully, that’s both a relief and a nightmare. It’s a relief because it means my failures aren't always my fault, but it’s a nightmare because it means I’m not nearly as in control as I like to pretend. I’m just trying to make peace with the fact that the "race" isn't always fair.

Look, when the cost of continuing is higher than the cost of stopping, it’s time to quit.

During the day, we call it “strategy” or “being smart.” We pretend the choice is logical, like we’ve thought it all through. But in the late night hours, the mask comes off. It’s not strategy, it’s exhaustion. I’m tired of giving so much to things that give nothing back.

Admitting you’ve reached your limit is hard, but there’s honesty in it. Saying, I can’t carry this anymore, isn’t weakness, it’s the only way to protect yourself. Letting go doesn’t mean failing. Sometimes, it’s how you survive.

Yeah actually… I've been working on something. I haven’t shared it yet, but you know how I always been into superheroes. I love the battles, but nobody ever talks about after the villains beaten, and the hero flies off, who cleans up that wrecked city. So I came up with this cleanup crew called SAINT. — Superhuman Aftermath Intervention and Neutralization Taskforce. They come in, handle the damage, haul away the weaponry that was left behind, and restore some order. That’s the story… superheroes, but from the people stuck dealing with the mess.

12:32am

Watching this episode of the Twilight Zone again. Still freaks me out

12:38am

I used to obsess over heroes when I was a kid. Honestly, I still do.

I’d daydream that some hero would just show up and fix everything. But over time I’ve learned… they don’t always show up. Sometimes you just gotta be your own hero. It’s you. That’s the hero.

12:47am

So today, I let this person go ahead of me, and the cashier closed the lane right after them. I know it’s petty, but it just felt like... why do I even bother? “No good deed goes unpunished.” It stings. But then I don't know… when my back’s against the wall, something random happens. Some tiny bit of grace shows up. And I guess it reminds me that being a decent person isn't totally wasted. Sometimes good really does come back.

Maybe that’s why some things just… hold up, no matter what. Converse and denim jeans are never going out of style…. like the little black dress. They’ve survived every weird fad and trend. I think it’s because they’re just… simple. Classic. No drama, no trying too hard to be “cool.” They just work.

I feel like I’m finally reaching that point where I’m tired of chasing every new thing. You start to see what actually lasts, you know? I think I’m finally figuring that out.

1:02am

It's wild how much time we spend just nodding along to stuff we already agree with. I’m guilty too. It’s like we’re stuck in this loop where nothing ever changes. Real growth is probably supposed to feel annoying and uncomfortable, you know? Like sitting with something that isn't your thing just to see what happens. We’ll never see anything new if we keep following the same map.

1:12am

I’ve been a crappy friend sometimes. Not in some big dramatic way, just... being distant. Being too stuck in my own head to really see anyone else. I’ve said apologies that just didn’t fix anything. It’s hard to sit with that. I know you're supposed to learn from it, but man… I'm tired of living in the guilt.

No matter how strong I think I am, that feeling of dread still hits. Over a doctor’s voicemail, stepping on the scale, or a ‘we need to talk’ moments… my mind goes straight to the worst possible place. But when I actually face it, it’s never as bad as I imagined. I always forget… I’ve literally survived everything before this.

Fear really does grow in the dark. The moment you step into it, the shadow isn’t even that big of an issue.

Anyway… do you ever do that to yourself, or am I just overthinking?

1:28am

Everyone says they want things to “go back to normal”, but I don’t even think normal is real. Normal was just a routine we got used to… and when routine’s gone, everything changes, and we change with it. Trying to go back would just be pretending the last few years didn’t happen. Maybe we’re not supposed to go back. Maybe we just keep moving and carry all this mess with us. Does that make sense? It’s wild, right?

1:38am

Also, it’s crazy how most of the important stuff I’ve learned came from completely messing things up. School didn’t teach me half as much as a bad breakup or some dumb choices I’ve made. Life just keeps throwing the same problems at you until you finally deal with them. You either learn the lesson, or you repeat the same disaster. I think I’m finally starting to get it, though. Hopefully.

Maybe the mistakes I made weren’t really mistakes at all. Maybe this is where I am supposed to be at this moment in time.

1:45am

You know? My favorite memories… honestly, it’s never the big stuff. Like, I don’t even think about graduations or birthdays or whatever. It’s always the small moments. Sitting on the stoop laughing until the streetlights came on, or just driving around with the music up in the fall. Even us just being awake right now, talking... that’s the stuff that actually sticks. I feel like one day, this is exactly the kind of thing I’m gonna miss the most.

Sometimes it hits me… nothing lasts forever. It’s scary that at some point, you realize you’re going to have to say goodbye to the things you’re used to, like your family, your friends, or just the way things have always been. And when it finally all shifts and you’re standing in the middle of something totally new? Honestly, I think all you can really do is take a deep breath and walk into it. There’s no other way out but through, I guess.

2:00am

It’s funny how opportunities never really look like opportunities. They usually just look like a total mess or some huge setback at first. But if you can look past the chaos, there’s usually a way in… like a door to something you’ve actually wanted for a long time. I feel like the real secret is noticing it while everyone else is still panicking. These doors don’t stay open forever, you know? If you don't grab them, they’re gone.

2:08am

It's weird how everything can change in a second. One phone call or one piece of unexpected news, and suddenly everything flips, and we’re left trying to make sense of it all, just trying to adjust.

Maybe that’s what life really is… always adjusting… the best we can.

2:15am

Everything felt so simple when we were kids. You always knew who the bad guy was…

they literally looked the part.

But over time, I’ve realized, “bad guys” don’t actually look bad. They have the best smile, and they’re usually the most charismatic or funniest in the room… the ones everyone actually likes. It’s scarier when you realize you can’t just spot them by looking. You don’t really know, until you get to know them.

11:48pm

Today was just… a good day. I don't know how else to say it. Most days just pass. But today felt right. You ever get one of those?

It's wild how easy it is to miss your own life while you're living it. Like we're running around chasing stuff that doesn't even matter. Love matters. Faith matters. Everything else is mostly noise. Scripture even says remember God when you’re young… before life gets in the way. I think I finally understand what that means.

12:19am

I don’t know… I always thought the opposite of death was life. But maybe it's actually birth. Because Ecclesiastes says "a time to be born and a time to die." Not a time to live. Birth and death are the bookends. Everything in between… the mess, the mistakes, the good stuff — that's life. And honestly? I can barely even remember most of the bad parts anymore. Funny how that works.

12:33am

Can we just… pause the adult stuff for tonight? Like just for a few hours. Please.

12:47am

It’s fun trying to relive your twenties, until you're around twenty-year-olds and reality hits. But what do we actually miss though? The freedom? The possibilities? The friends? Sure. But I also remember the heartbreak and the confusion and honestly the mess of all of it. So I don't know… do I really miss it? Or just the version of it I keep in my head?

1:04am

My mom always said it's what's on the inside that counts. And she's right. But some nights my inside feels like absolute chaos. All the noise just gets in and I don't know how to shut it out. So lately I've just been finding quiet wherever I can. Just stepping back and breathing before the world sucks me back in.

1:17am

We're not kids anymore… but like, what if we still could be a little? I catch myself saying "I'm too old for that" and then I think… too old for what? Laughing? Being curious? Making a mess? That kid never went anywhere. He's just buried under a bunch of responsibilities and bad decisions. But he's still in there. I can feel him.

1:31am

Honestly? You can't fix crazy. But you're not stuck either. If something's toxic, you can walk away from it. Maybe not today, maybe not all at once. But you don't have to just sit in it.

1:52am

Life is basically a layer cake. All of it just stacked up there… the good days, the ugly ones, the stuff you're proud of, the stuff you're not. And for a long time I was hiding certain layers. Pretending they weren't there. But when you finally just… stop fighting it? Something changes. You feel more like yourself. Like one day you just shrug and go "yeah. This is all of me. Take it or leave it." That's a good feeling when you get there

2:09am

Coulda woulda shoulda. Done with all that. It's messy, it's unfinished, and it is what it is. And maybe that's okay. Maybe that's the layer cake.