Welcome to The Bluebird Paradox, a gritty MicroZine written by me, Chris Sadhill, that explores the coexistence of light and darkness, focusing on social issues and the human experiences we often overlook, presented through various short stories, poetry, and other creative arts.
The Bluebird pays homage to Charles Bukowski’s poem Bluebird, which delves into themes of vulnerability, repression, and the struggle to express oneself authentically.
Often, the Bluebird symbolizes hope, love, positivity, and renewal; however, throughout my life, I’ve observed the presence of darkness where there is light, leading me to believe in a paradoxical relationship between the two.
The Bluebird Paradox embraces the inherent contradictions and complexities of our existence and seeks to reveal deeper truths about society, emotions, and the human experience.
As always, thank you for being here. Please enjoy the read.
If you’re like me or the other zillion Homo sapiens racing through modern-day life, dragging baggage like dead weight while trying to better ourselves, I assume you too made some kind of plan for self-improvement this year—whether big or small—aiming to advance your mind, body, relationships, or even your career. You made resolutions, promises, and rules, vowing this year would be your bitch! For those of you in a better place, maybe you're simply refining yourself, making minor adjustments to an already great system. Or perhaps you did nothing because you're just that goddamn perfect. And if that's the case, well, this issue’s not for you.
But regardless of what you’re working on—or not—one of three things is happening:
You haven’t started yet.
You’ve started, but you’re beginning to doubt the process or whether you’ll see it through.
You’ve started and are doing great.
All three scenarios can be spun into a pro or a con, depending on who’s presenting the argument.
One could say that not starting at all is a perfect opportunity, to begin with a clean slate, while another may suggest that that person is doomed from the get-go if they couldn't even start in the first place.
One could say that if someone is feeling the pressure this early it’s a telltale sign they’re destined to fail. Others might argue that that person is standing at a turning point, a major milestone, and if they can just push through they’ll become unstoppable.
As for number three, well, who really cares, they're still doing great, right? But one could speculate they’ll eventually become a number two, bogged down with uncertainty and pressure until they break.
All of these opinions come from two sources—outsiders, weighing in on someone else’s likelihood of success, like piranhas. Like leeches, sucking the life out of its host. And the other is you!
Unfortunately, you’re the victim of both.
One month into 2025, and it might feel like we’re inching closer to failure. Closer to succumbing to the pressures placed on us by society, our parents, our best friends, our jobs, and—of course—ourselves. Closer to taking the easy road. Like the one you chose last year, or the year before, or maybe the several before that. It itches at you. It yowls in the night like an alley cat in heat, forcing you to stare blankly at the ceiling until the red glare washes over you like a haze. And before you know it one morning—poof—you wake up, and all your stress has disappeared, because you’re back in your comfort zone!
Ah yes... the comfort zone. The safety net. The backdoor. The thick, cozy blanket you hide your shame under, only to forget about it entirely...until next year, of course. It’s like we’re all waiting for the inevitable, stuck in an endless loop. Except this inevitable isn’t fate—it’s something we created. Our own Frankenstein who is very much alive. And it hunts us endlessly until we succumb to the illness or worse, the flames.
We like knowing we tried, but deep down, we secretly search for the first chance to escape the pressure, to run from the bear. After all, we are animals, and animals prefer the path of least resistance. You might deny it, but somewhere inside, part of you hopes you receive a friendly slap on the ass—an encouraging “that’s the spirit, at least you tried, you’ll get it next time, kid”—a tag-out that absolves you for the rest of the year.
We grovel to the first person we can find, spilling our elaborate justifications, and pleading for validation, begging for someone to relieve us of the guilt poisoning our hearts. But the truth is no one cares about your excuses because they’re all too busy making their own.
It’s an elephant in the room—a countdown to a constant we know all too well: failure. It’s the reason why many of us don’t even start. Society is much too comfortable with failure. Many are content with mediocre success, and some with no success at all, especially if they get a chance to try on the costume for a few weeks.
But did you really try? Did you push through those first few barriers to climb to the next level? Did you even want change or do you like the idea of it, but hate the work?
Life can feel like an unprovoked Bukkake—a relentless torrent of influences coming at you from all angles, dragging you down until you’re gasping for air. And that’s exactly where they want you. The worst part is you let them, you asked for it, and you signed the release forms.
An infant can drown in as little as an inch of water. Similarly, each time you try to reinvent yourself you’re in a vulnerable, almost infantile state. It’s easy to drown in just a few weeks of bad habits and a lack of discipline—a lack of focus on your goals, your motivations, and your success.
This is your year—you promised, damnit. I know I did. It’s easy to let go of something you never had a firm grip on in the first place. It’s easy to just give up, to give in, to believe what they’re all saying, or worse, to believe what you’ve been telling yourself. Hell, it’s easier to just give up entirely—to die.
But deep down, that’s not what we want. Deep down, you want that thing and everything it brings with it. You want happiness, success, respect, love, and acceptance. You want to be seen, heard, remembered.
You want to live. But where is your will?
At the end of the day, we all have demons whispering in our ears, pleading for us to return home—to the flames. After all, it’s warm. Cozy. It’s familiar. It’s home.
But this is the time to stop listening. This is the time to make yourself the priority. To say NO to the opposition. Only you can do it, and fuck everyone else. Fuck the shitty side of you weighing you down.
And that my sadbastards, brings us to the word of the month: Resilience.
Right now is when you start feeling the burn—the realization that you’re in it for the long haul, and the results are far out of sight. This is the make-or-break moment, and frankly, the many of us who have stood at this intersection before have broken more times than we can count. Hell, I’m on the doorstep of forty, and I still haven’t shed the pounds, kicked the bad habits and behaviors, written my first book, or checked off countless other goals.
Fuck the haters, the naysayers, the jealous ones clawing for a piece of your soul because they’ve lost their own. It’s time to kick them off. To face them head-on. To fight through them without rules—bite, gouge, go for the balls, rip them off, and toss them to the hounds.
This is the time to cut the dead weight.
I won’t tell you how to fight your demons, but I will tell you this: it’s the only way to get where you’re going. You have to get creative. Be relentless. Be Resilient! There’s no perfect path, but the most important thing is to remember why you’re doing this.
Remember why you want it.
You must prepare—set up reminders, alarms, phone notifications, support people, or even Post-it notes if you have to. Surround yourself with positivity—affirmations to counter the enormous waves of negativity that’ll come your way.
You must plan—think it through first. Treat your failures as lessons, create redundancies and backup plans, and use yourself against yourself. Learn it, recite it, and know it inside and out.
You must change—if you’re not changing, you’re choosing, and if you’re choosing, you’re losing. Work on your habits, even if it’s just a 1% improvement each day. Accept that real change is slow. Understand that you might not see results right away, but know that change is happening—internally, mentally, or even in how others perceive you. Not all change is visible.
You must follow through—stick with the plan, no matter what, and adjust your mindset to endure the suffering, because you will suffer. Knowing that is key. But remember—you’re already suffering now. So you might as well suffer while doing something new and good for yourself.
You must love yourself—get to know yourself better. Take time to write poetry or journal. Learn to be okay with who you are and love yourself wholly.
This is the time. This is the year. This is the moment. You promised.
You said you’d do it, and now Papa Sadhill demands that you finish the job.
Plus, I’m fucking trying too, so at least you’re not alone.
Now, let’s kick this year in the nuts!
This month’s theme is inspired by a piece I wrote in 2020 titled There’s No Need To Go Any Further. Originally written for a short film project with a new film group I had joined near West Chester, PA, it was designed to feel like a spoken-word empowerment piece and served as the script. But then COVID happened, our meetings became less frequent, and ultimately, they stopped.
And, we never shot the film.
I hadn’t read it in a while, but after going through my archives and stumbling upon it, I realized it would be a perfect piece to kick off the year—after some revision, of course. The new title, Reclaimed, feels much more fitting, and the words have been refined and refocused to strengthen the piece.
My goal for this poem was to highlight the cruelty of society, the harsh judgment the world places on us, and the overwhelming pressure people endure. I wanted this poem to speak for those who can’t. To shine a light on them or inspire them to speak up, take control of their lives, and reclaim their existence.
Please enjoy.
Reclaimed I am not what you label me to be, though you feel compelled to tell me what you think— that I’m a scumbag, a lost soul, useless to society. But your words don’t define me. I’ve already heard them— from my family, from myself, from strangers on the street. At the end of the day, only I determine how my name will read. --- It’s all too easy to say, “Just leave,” but have you ever felt love’s iron fist strike you on your cheek? Have you put in the time to heal your wounds, to stay loyal to the one you vowed you’d never leave? It’s harder than you think, especially when you’re clinging to the hope that things will change. It’s harder than you think. “Why won’t she just leave? She’s gutless. She wants it… She’s obviously weak.” But those words won't define me, because I carry more strength behind my swollen eye than you produce in fifty-two weeks. And soon, I will break free. --- My armor’s not here by choice—contrary to belief. It’s not a product of laziness, lack of drive, or absence of accountability. You chisel my exterior with your daggers and blades, your words seek to carve “perfection." My armor exists, in part, as a response to your misguided deeds— a reflexive shield against the poison you release. My armor protects me. Your words don’t define me. I am more than skin deep. My body's molded with perseverance, shaped by the hope that one day I will be happy. And I am happy— I am not your freak. --- Look at you, looking at me. It seems you’re trying too hard to steer my ship, when, in fact, it’s you who’s lost at sea. I am not a label, a bruise, or what I eat. I’m not what society deems proper, but I AM UNIQUE. So, you worry about you, and I’ll define me. © 2022 Chris Sadhill
Sadhill’s Music Minute
“Truth” by Alex Ebert feels like the perfect song to bring in the new year, dragging with it its shadows. The song is an anthem for battling your demons and a reminder of the daily struggle—not always winning, but sometimes caving in.
It asks the piercing question: Are you ready to confront your truth?
The repetition of "Truth" is haunting, serving as a mantra that challenges listeners to face themselves unvarnished and recognize that the only path to true freedom lies in an honest reckoning with one's flaws, desires, and potential.
It’s bold. It’s authentic.
Ultimately, the song delivers a minimalist but poignant truth: No amount of external validation or excuses will carry us forward. The power lies within us—raw, unpolished, and waiting to be unleashed. Anything less is a betrayal of who we’re meant to be.
"Truth" was featured in the film The Covenant by Guy Ritchie in 2023.
Sadhill News
Australian Writers Centre (AWC):
On the first weekend of each month, AWC hosts an international writing challenge called Furious Fiction. Participants are given unique challenge criteria that must be incorporated into an original story of 500 words or less, which must be submitted within 55 hours—by Sunday at 8 a.m. EST.
Last month, I submitted my social satire piece, The Phallic Samurai and His Last Magic Sword—a reworking of a poem I wrote in 2023 with the same title.
I thought it was far-fetched that the story would make any list, but to my surprise, the results came back, and it was longlisted.
If you’re unfamiliar with the term longlisted, it means my story caught the judges’ attention in the first round. AWC states that they place the top 10-15% of entries on this list, which means my story stood out from nearly 90% of submissions and was considered for the top prize or spot among potentially hundreds of entries.
A story about a homeless man wielding a dildo as a weapon on Christmas Eve, longlisted—hell yes to that—I’ll take it!
If you’d like to read it for yourself, it’s available on the Stories page of my website (link above).
Writers Playground:
As I write this, I’m sitting just days away from the start of the tenth Writers Playground competition. My whiteboard is prepped, I have a general sense of what might go down, and I’m feeling a little more confident in my abilities than I did on that lonely day in autumn 2023, faced with my first Writing Battle—yet I still don’t fully know what to expect, and I’m still nervous.
By the time you read this, I’ll have already written and submitted my piece. I have no idea what the five characters, five settings, or the object will be. If it’s anything like Writing Battle or other contests, I expect a range of challenges and a few unexpected curveballs, but I’m committed to writing what I want first, without barriers.
My goal is to build a portfolio I’m proud of and create stories that inspire my next novel.
So, wish me luck and I’ll keep you updated in the next issue.
Publications
Expect to see more from me this year in the coming months. I’ve submitted poetry and short fiction to various Lit Mags and Journals and have not heard back yet.
I continue to be hopeful for Apex Magazine’s response to my submission, The Roach and the Butterfly. Right now there are 897 writers in front of me.
Upcoming Events & Contests:
2025 Winter Flash Fiction Writing Battle: Feb 6th- Feb 9th2025
2025 Autumn Fear Flash Fiction Writing Battle: Oct 5th- Oct 12th
2025 Autumn Writing Battle: Oct 26th- Nov 2nd
NEW Book Development: She Left Him In…[Insert City Here]
Well, all the votes are in!
Actually, only a few came in...I'll chalk the lack of participation up to New Year’s fatigue or something...yes, that’s what we’ll call it—New Year’s fatigue. Or maybe it’s just bad timing on my part.
Regardless, to those who took a moment to share your thoughts—you're badasses, and I thank you. To those who didn’t—drink coffee damnit.
Now, onto the results.
There was no runaway winner, so I was left choosing between two great ideas I’m stoked to write: a dystopian series or a noir murder-romance series. As much as each of your votes matters to me, my wife’s opinion matters more. And since she’s always my first reader, I allowed her vote to count as two. Sorry, folks, but she broke the tie.
So, without further ado—without proper planning, foresight, consideration, or even research—let’s dive into the deep end of 2025 with...a noire murder-romance series.
Here’s a loose direction for the series: it will feature a collection of non-linear, stand-alone stories, each following a main character—whether a detective, a femme fatale, or both, or hell, I may even switch it up. I’ll explore the smoky allure of 1940s speakeasies, investigate the tragic, gorgeous remains of dead prostitutes in Chicago, wait alongside angry wives lurking in the dark, and wrestle with sexy seductresses hired to take out the trash—for good.
I’ve already developed a handful of these stories and would love to expand them into a series of dark, smoky murder-romance novels. There’s no official title yet, but my first consideration will be: She Left Him in...[Chicago, L.A., Detroit, San Francisco, etc.] which mirrors the titling of a few of my poems, so I’ll start there.
Each month, I’ll be updating my progress, sharing parts of my process when possible, and using this space to stay accountable—both to you and, more importantly, to myself. And hey, a few words of encouragement in the comments now and then probably wouldn’t hurt!
If you’re interested in joining my ongoing Beta Reader team, drop a comment, find me on social media everywhere @ChrisSadhill, or email me at ChrisSadhill@gmail.com, and I’ll add you to the list.
Now, together let’s write this fucking book!
Thank you for your support!
…and please leave a comment. I love hearing from you.
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