Synagogue shooting? What was that? They're coming so fast that they're shoving each other out of our minds. Is that the plan? Make it so normal that we no longer care? We no longer register each atrocity? It IS normal now. It happens too quickly for us to register. What happened where? I can't remember. … Continue reading Shooting the Heart of America
Up and Down
Down, down, down again. A vertical merry go round. Seemingly going ever so slowly at its nadir. Crawling back to its zenith. Plunging down to the nadir again. Why is it so favored? That low point? Why can it not stay up high for a little longer. A little break from down there. Up here … Continue reading Up and Down
Scrap Scrape
I want to break free. I want it to be past. Not present. Not future. I did it again. In the present. The present four hours ago. It didn't hurt enough. Will I want to do it again? It did not fulfill whatever I wanted it to. What did I want it to do? I … Continue reading Scrap Scrape
Rocking Ball
* This story contains themes of severe depression and suicide Cara sat on the floor. Her arms around her knees. Taking the form of a ball. Rocking from front to back. Over and over. The rhythm was calming. Maybe. Who knows? She didn't. She just kept on rocking. It would take more effort to think … Continue reading Rocking Ball
Poor Me
Look at me. I am the face of poverty. It's laughable really. How dare I call myself poor. I own my own house. My husband and I made my last payment on my minivan this month. I have excellent healthcare for my many ailments. My kids have beds, with clean sheets (mostly), I their own … Continue reading Poor Me
Gaia the Great
She is beautiful. My mother, my daughter, my sister, my friend, my lover. She is everything to everyone. She is powerful. She is loving. She is breath, life, heart. Land and sea. Inspiring and fear-inducing. Tsunamis, Earthquakes. Volcanos, Hurricanes. Tornados, Floods. Boiling Heat, Freezing Cold. Gaia. You are close. You are always. You are here. … Continue reading Gaia the Great
It’s Off To Work I Go…
I'm nervous and excited. I want to get this job. I am so scared to work again. It's been two years. I remember when I was twenty nine, I went back to work after eighteen months. Eighteen months earlier I had been working six days per week, Often with a couple of doubles thrown in … Continue reading It’s Off To Work I Go…
