Empathy on the Rocks
Boulders, Belly Laughs, and Belonging
This isn’t your average blog—it’s a quarry of truth, trauma, and a splash of sarcasm. Around here, the boulders are heavy enough to bruise, the pebbles wedged in like life’s petty annoyances, and the sand? It grinds in all the places polite company doesn’t mention. Empathy on the Rocks is where we drag the stones we trip over into the light, skip a few across the water just for spite, and occasionally chuck one with a satisfying thud.
If you came looking for polished perfection, bless your naïve little heart. But if you’re here for the messy, meaningful, and gloriously unfiltered magic of being human—with a laugh that blindsides you mid-tear—kick off your shoes and feel the grit. Pocket a smooth stone for luck, toss a jagged one for catharsis, and let these stories do their thing: connect, challenge, comfort, and occasionally hit like therapy (but cheaper and with more four-letter words).
And when it’s all said and done—after the dust settles and the echoes fade—it’s about what we build from the rubble. The scars turn to stories, the jagged edges soften with time, and beneath it all is the quiet truth: we’re all just humans stacking our stones into something that almost feels like love.
The Origin Story
Most of these ramblings were born in the emotional wreckage of the 2024 election—when disappointment, rage, and a touch of existential dread threw a party in my psyche and forgot to clean up.
I did the only sensible thing: turned off MSNBC before my eyeballs melted, grabbed a pen (or keyboard), and started writing. It wasn’t elegant. It wasn’t planned. But it was therapy—cheap, messy, and surprisingly effective.
As I wrote, something shifted. I found joy in shaping chaos into stories. Sure, some names have been changed to protect the guilty (and the litigious), but the events are as true as my memory allows—which is to say, emotionally accurate and factually flexible. These tales are stitched together from real moments, raw feelings, and the occasional exaggeration that runs in my family like bad knees and questionable casseroles.
Meet Robert (B.R.)
Storyteller. Mischief-maker. Reluctant Rock-Hauler.
I created Empathy on the Rocks to share the kind of tales that stick—etched in memory, rough-edged with humor, and grounded in a stubborn streak of justice.
Why You’re Here
Think of this blog as my open journal, my pocketful of stones, and my invitation to wander the rocky trails of being human. You’ll find stories that carve deep, sass that smooths like river-worn pebbles, and honesty that shows up raw, sharp, and unapologetically real. And every now and then, we’ll skip a stone across the surface—because even the heaviest truths deserve a moment of lightness.
Want More? Of Course You Do.
If you’ve made it this far without running for the hills (or the unsubscribe button—note: there isn’t one), chances are you’re one of us: a fellow connoisseur of chaos, connection, and the occasional emotional hangover.
So here’s the deal:
👉 Head over to the [ Contact ], drop me a note, and I’ll add you to the email list. That way you’ll know when new stories drop—fresh from the emotional blender.
No spam. No sales pitches. Just stories that spill like a good drink: messy, honest, and best shared with kindred spirits.
Pull Up a Stool
You’re welcome here anytime. Seriously. Whether you’re carrying a boulder of grief, skipping pebbles of joy, or just sitting with the jagged edges of a day that didn’t go as planned—this is your place. Set your stones down. Stack them, sort them, chuck one if you nee to.
Feel free to make a comment—because the best stories deserve a little back-and-forth, a few shared rocks, and maybe a smooth one to pocket for luck.