I spent the majority of this weekend fixated on the term "natural life." It sounds so gentle, like you could place it on a pile of autumn leaves and it wouldn't make a sound. But when it comes to you, the term plunges through me like an anchor through the ocean; heavy, crushing, direct. ...
It’s Always August
I wonder if I was ever really a morning person or if I was just trying to spend as much time with the sun as possible... I have always honored the sun. I rise with it when I can, and every day since the beginning of my memories, I have felt the sunset in my stomach. Watching the bright, ...
Untitled Document
Perhaps I shouldn’t have to have anything cohesive to say when I want to write. After all, my urge to write comes from the same primal pit as laughter and tears. They arrive at will, without warning, rhyme, formality, or reason. So why not write about the sun and the way it makes me feel, and how ...
Like It’s 1999
I see my father's handwriting and the memories strike like warm bourbon in my belly. I’m a victim of my own curiosity. After ordering my high school transcripts for NYIAD, I splurged the extra six dollars for a copy of my entire public school record. I audibly gasp when I opened my public school ...
28 Cakes: Granting Myself Freedom On My 29th Birthday
Every year I lean over an ice cream cake and use my breath to extinguish a tiny, bouncing flame. Bits of wax drip and roll into the whipped icing as my family claps and sings Stevie’s version of Happy Birthday; loud, and way off key. More often than not, I don’t have a wish prepared, so I say a ...
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