It was his photograph which first caught my attention. I had been hastily responding to text messages on a dating site, surprised by my alleged popularity. I hadn't even reached out to him but found myself responding. And then I saw his photograph. For years and years I'd been attracted to the Northern European type: … Continue reading Dark and Swarthy (for AT)
I knew it was coming, this day. Like those on this side of the canyon watching the night sky grow from a dark, almost imperceptible henna to tangerine to apricot. They knew it was coming, this night. Tonight at long last I've long lost everything I once valued: love and lovers; mind and mindfulness; mother … Continue reading On Saturday I’m Going To Be Homeless
I should be dead. No kidding, I should be dead. For six years I consumed a lethal cocktail muddled together on a daily basis. My starters included: my all-star pitcher, the stimulant dextro-amphetamine aka Adderall; my opioid triple play Oxycodone, Hydrocodone, and Fentanyl; at clean-up, slugger benzodiazepine aka Clonazepam; and my DH, cyclobenzaprine aka Flexeril. it wasn't that … Continue reading Adderall, Oxycodone, Fentanyl, Hydrocodone, Clonazepam and Flexeril
Dear Mrs. Donahue (names are changed), Thank you very much for your kind words. I wish I could take credit for my writing style but alas, like my blue eyes, my writing was implanted long before I discovered it. And I doubt that beautiful language is lost on you: my job is to inspire the … Continue reading Replying to a Mother’s Rueful Response
If you crave the burden and expectations brought on by the moniker "Genius . . ."
Early last week a tip-toeing summer sun behaved like a shy new third grader taking his seat quietly in a room full of strangers. Suddenly a bumblebee tumbled past my nose and into the kitchen. Quite surprised, I stepped through the doorway only to hear the familiar thud-thud-thudding of an insect against a window, … Continue reading The Troubling Bumbling Bumblebee
First posted in August 2012 Shame And Regret: The Sting of Social Stigma has more of a wallop five years later than four years earlier. We as a race must get something out of persecuting the disenfranchised and marginalized friends, family's, lovers, idols, and heroes. Maybe we ought to look inside ourselves and find that kernel of fear. … Continue reading Shame and Regret: The Sting of Social Stigma