Based outside of Boston, Massachusetts, The Thought Porch is a personal blog by aspiring novelist Max Ghannam. Posts explore the mind and body, as well motivational thoughts on life and sources of inspiration.

Digging Deep

The idea of sharing some of my creative writing work on here is something I've been tossing around for a while. This week was a very testing week as far as paying off all of my debts to myself. There were a few days this week where I was so close to skipping a workout or a post. But I dug deep and found resolve to push through. I squeezed in a late night yoga session and found time to run after a 10 hour work day. And, rather than leave me drained, those two things left me invigorated and ready to tackle the rest of the week's challenges. 

While reflecting on it this morning, I was reminded of a poem I wrote some time ago. It came when I was feeling really down on myself for not having the wherewithal to grind through tough times. I wrote it at a time when I genuinely questioned whether or not I would finish a single thing I started. I had recently dropped out of college, had a brief relationship (more like fling) go sideways, among other things. I let those failures bog me down rather than teach me more. For far too long. 

So, here's to reflecting on past failures to inform and feed the fire for future successes. Even though it hasn't concluded yet, I consider this week a major success already.

i don’t seem to have it in me to start what i finish. a sunset might be a nice ending to a night. a warm hand in mine and the notion that nothing could ever beat today but tomorrow’s still worth it. i hope you remember me as the warmth in your chest that let you know synthetic euphoria was spreading. i’ll remember you as the drop of water that sent ripples through the sky. reflection is not reality. fear is not a crime. you are not my answer. perfection seldom lasts. i was sold on eyes, features, the promise that you could fulfill a promise you never made for a desire i never voiced. you never had a chance. You became that rusty arch in the woods we watched sag overtime as it became home to those vines even while it struggled to hold its own weight. the deception was never clear even after i made it right. you were only mine in that delicate way that snow sticks to the ice beneath your foot before you slip. each moment is fading until a drop awakens our lives. resentment is...





Taking The Plunge

Stop Chasing The Rainbow Hoping To Find Gold