Back to the Beans
I remember the first time I had coffee that didn’t taste like sludge.
I remember the first time I had coffee that didn’t taste like sludge.
I stood in the middle of the stream, my line whizzing back and forth, back and forth as I tried to remind my arm how to lay the line down gently.
I’ve found that loving myself means letting myself love and delight in the things around me.
I’m not convinced that looter’s increased presence in my life is the result of a newly expanded horizon of awareness.
An 8×10 waterproof canvas tent with metal poles and the space for a wood stove, that tent has seen most of Oregon.
I am not sure how to accurately convey the unpleasantness of this experience. There was no part of my body that went gentle into that good night.
Dear M,
I hope you are enjoying life in Oregon. I am trying very hard not to miss you. Sometimes, it works.
I hadn’t planned on landing in Bend, Oregon and instantly feeling like I had found home, but I did.
So what do I have? I have my ancestors. I can’t visit them, anyway—most are long dead—so distance doesn’t matter. Still, though, this litany of names acts as a sort of symbolic rootedness.
Our struggle is against the authorities who misuse and abuse their power. Our struggle is against the evil that enslaves the world and is manifested in the actions of the University administration.