What is the cost of admission How tall must we be to ride this ride Cotton candied Manifest destiny Privileged Saccharine sluts Bittersweet sister c$&ts Who don’t know a thing about About nothing Versus get Good riddance Off the backs of ride or die Karmic trash people Eating lies because we’re hungry And don’t have…Read more How Much
Anorexia
Hunger hurts but starving works when it costs too much to love.- Fiona Apple
Contortionist
noun: contortionist; plural noun: contortionists an entertainer who twists and bends their body into strange and unnatural positions. Contortion is a performance art in which performers called contortionists showcase their skills of extreme physical flexibility. Contortion acts often accompany acrobatics, circus acts, street performers and other live performing arts. Contortion acts are typically performed in…Read more Contortionist
H.A.L.T
According to folks in recovery, if we’re about to run straight into the arms of our next fix we should H.A.L.T.; as in stop and think about it for a second. Common sense, right? Instead of drinking, snorting, cutting, starving, shopping, smoking, sexting, eating, beating or getting into yet another disastrous relationship, we should ask…Read more H.A.L.T
Soundbathing
There’s no need to eat pills, powders or plants if you want to hear colors, see sounds or just remember where we come from. (Hint: We’re Love and stardust.) I discovered this in tenth grade after replacing weed with astral projection. Meditation was free and the side effects ranged from decreased tension to lucid vacations…Read more Soundbathing
Brideshead Revisited
It was one of those distastefully delicious English novels full of decorated heirs, lust, costumes, shameless wealth and immoral secrets saturated in religious guilt. There must’ve been love somewhere in the hastily written pages as the author, who’d recently fallen out of the sky, attempted to encounter grace. But who among us can actually say…Read more Brideshead Revisited
Milagro
Now I lay me down to sleep I pray, I pray I pray to sheep If I should die Before I wake It’s all my fault Forsake, forsake In spite of consecration We’re screwed Nailed Bound To you Like the blood on the shroud And yet we’re foretold As equally yoked Contractually obligated To confess…Read more Milagro
Still
Journaling this morning I had a little epiphany about my general discomfort with ambiguity. ‘Where are we going? When will we get there? Why are we going? Who will be there? What will we do? What will or whose will, will be done to us? Beanie, t-shirt, jacket, snacks?’ I thought if I understood what…Read more Still
Disarmour
The universe doesn’t owe us an explanation, but that hasn’t stopped me from staring in awe as questions fall out of my open mouth. God, why did you let all this happen but not that? Why do we have free will? How big is the universe? Why was I born? Why can’t you physically wrap…Read more Disarmour
Sunday
Spent the better part of the morning wrestling with god. Why do we have free will? Why are only some things destined? What, exactly, are the rules in your chess game? Not that I’m particularly good at either. The only thing I’ve done right is yield when I’m being pulled by the providential scruff no…Read more Sunday
Walk in the Park
It took six years and ten days to let myself fall apart. Following you home in the car, wondering simultaneously if I’d lose you on the vintage green Honda in some horrific crash, or, if it was all over as soon as the flight from Cozumel touched ground. Truth be told, it ended the day…Read more Walk in the Park
Born in Providence 