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my grief’s razor-sharp edges, now blunted, still cut. i still bleed when i pick it up. Read more.
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This text was from 2022 just before I checked myself into detox for alcohol. She made me cry. She took all the best parts of me with her when she died, but I’m determined to get them back. That’s what she would want for me. Read more.
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8 years between these two photos – 27 vs 35 Brb, off to inquire about Botox and just how many units one face can stand, slather myself in sunscreen despite it being 10pm at night, then guzzle a gallon of water before my 12-hour beauty rest. Read more.
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I muck about in my ill-fitting skin. I grind my jawbone into grit. I waft and I waver, and I wait and I wait. My scaly shoulders suffer in the thick air. It’s putrid, even rancid; every inhale burns. I can’t stay here. I make it halfway down the road,… Read more.
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the month of May starts a week from today and with it, a plethora of emotions: ranging from hope to despair, joy to mourning, and a gamut of unidentifiable stuff smushed all in the middle. it’s the month my daughter, the silly sweet sassy light of my life, turns two.… Read more.
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I don’t know what my values are. I don’t know what I want out of life anymore. I don’t have any goals at the moment per se. I don’t even have a to-do list for tomorrow. But I I know that I would like to be the kind of person… Read more.
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Well, Mema, it’s almost Christmas. It’s, uh, oh gosh, it’s less than a week away, actually. Today is Thursday and Monday is Christmas Eve, Tuesday is Christmas. Stella, stop shaking your juice box upside down, honey. Well there have been some changes since you’ve been gone. um Stella and I… Read more.
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Brain is jumbled, anxiously awaiting the results of my echocardiogram done Thursday, doing a lot of self-reflection in the meantime. Writing doesn’t come so naturally these days; images are more my thing at the moment. Read more.
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The cream colored one in the middle was purchased in North Carolina over Christmas in December 2022, a surprise while us younger girls were out shopping. I don’t think it was worn again after the diagnosis in March 2023. Read more.
I too am not a bit tamed—I too am untranslatable
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Month Discover: Henri Rousseau's Virgin Forest with Sunset (1910). Original from the Kunstmuseum Basel Museum.
I too am not a bit tamed—I too am untranslatable 