First Drafts
My real fear is not that someone will think that I write poorly, but that people will think I write without having anything to say.
On Being In Between
Or maybe, there’s liberation to being in limbo—for a brief time, I’m nowhere. I’m placeless. I’m just part of the mass of humanity that’s moving from one space to another and back again.
The Songs I Sing my Daughter
Once I met Lucy face to face, we knew each other, and I sang to her songs from a place that had been growing inside me, one of confidence and purpose.
The Onion That Is Our Waste Systems
We stood on an extension of a natural butte, but under the topsoil was a thousand feet of trash.
Coffee and Ants
The winged six-legged something-or-other was diligently scaling the coffee shop window, which was thick with the moist mess of condensation.
The Politics of Lonely
So fall softly as you go into your places, like snow onto empty branches, like a weighted blanket.
Thoughts on the Afterlife
In my imagination, heaven was an infinite, celestial hay maze.
Northern Lights: A Letter to a Friend
While we were talking, your mom shouted from upstairs that we should go outside—there were northern lights showing.
How to Take the GRE
7. Bring vocabulary cards on road trips and try to convince people that studying them will be, just, SUCH a fun game.
Lend Me Your Ears: Podcasts
For a blog written by people between the ages of twenty-three and thirty circa 2017, it’s been a while since we’ve talked about podcasts.
