RFRA
I was four or five when I ran away from home. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision stemming from my preschool sense of injustice.
Fool Me Once
But when I tell this to people, my writing hopes and dreams and thoughts, the first question they invariably ask is: “What do you write?”
“Here’s the Story…”
Of course, that’s not to say that it was a dramatic or artistic milestone. More accurately, the show’s dramatic milieu is perhaps best described as high camp.
On Depression
Your head hurts, you’re tired, you’re an insomniac, you’re a narcoleptic, you’re mute, you’re alone, deafened, crowded, screaming screaming screaming.
Measure By Trees
When I was a child, I measured myself against the tallest tree. This tree, this tallest tree, it wasn’t a redwood or a giant ash. It was a white pine.
The Best Story I Ever Told
I know the saying is that misery loves company, but in my experience I reckon misery loves an audience. There, in the center of a circle of eager listeners, I peaked.
Catharsis
That computer fan breathes so loud now that I can’t ignore it. My mind fixates on the sound and won’t let it go, an act pretty typical of my mind in the midst of anxiety.
The World is Larger Still
This is a source of regret for me now. I had ample opportunity to learn, maintain, and grow my language skills, but, quite simply, it wasn’t a priority.
Why I Visit Korean Bathhouses
My own body felt like it was about to become a steamed bun. But I needed to stay long enough so that the older gentlemen in the room don’t think I was a silly wuss.
Margin Notes on Gentleness
In Denny’s, my vanilla ice cream and characteristic joyful temperament were melting into a puddle of white-chocolate raspberry pancake balls and self-loathing.
