Over the Garden Wall
You should watch it. Right now. You don’t have to read any more of this post.
You should watch it. Right now. You don’t have to read any more of this post.
All the ghosts I had at the River Arts District White Duck Taco have been drowned.
They whispered, “Did you feel that too?”
I was haunted by the thought of a home that was all around me yet so distant from me.
I write about how much I miss a recently-defunct business because the Gathering, to myself and many, many people, was more than a place to get a good chai.
Those were the saddest things I could think of at that age: Ghosty was lonely. And without ice cream.
I repeated the words I’ve heard from my friends, family, and therapists, hoping that they’d pull me out of the dark corners of intrusive thoughts.
I can’t stand to think about it outside of my sketchbook and my Word document.
The tales say The Peeing Man looks just like a normal customer, so you’ll never know it’s him, until it’s too late… .
I struggle to write in terms that will be received by a general audience as measured, considerate, thoughtful, because for the past year Palestinian suffering has been irrational, malicious, unthinkable.