More apocalypse, less angst
(this post follows this one) in writing about this man, the artist who gave me the fifteen dollars to lie down beside him (and no, i did not have to touch, it was all about proximity), i have remembered one other thing he gave… Continue Reading “a fiction from the granville street bridge (part 2)”
there it was – on the bridge waiting for me – a memory i had forgotten about entirely. the despair of an 18-year old girl drenched in december rain – looking over at mid-span and thinking “if i go over with this pack on… Continue Reading “a fiction from the granville street bridge”
i’m no fan of the military, and i think marriage is an outmoded institution… but for some reason, this makes me happy anyhow.
i’m feeling good this morning – am definitely relieved to be done the exam for my counselling methods course (i think it went okay) and got a solid night of sleep in (7.5 hours uninterrupted!). now i just have to finish the final paper… Continue Reading “prioritizing tragedy”
illness frustrates me to no end – the seeming uselessness of lying in bed while the body goes through its healing contortions – the total lack of power, lack of ability to speed up the process, the reminder we are mortal wrought each moment… Continue Reading “the fourth practice”