Welcome to Eden
She has yet to shred her first roll of toilet paper, or textbook, or slipper.
She has yet to shred her first roll of toilet paper, or textbook, or slipper.
It is no less than an incarnation of the badges of history Estonia wears into the present, a memento of the past and a dream of a techno-future.
There’s something about these bowls that makes them superior to any other bowl I’ve had.
She laughed and said “Finger guns.” To which I responded “Bisexual finger guns.”
Numbers have a surprising tyranny over me, a word person.
How do you grieve for someone who you hardly know?
I feel a stiffening worry that the newness will turn sour, that everything will go wrong.
From the first day I started spiritual direction, I wanted to be a spiritual director myself.
She’s just a bear. A bear that did cocaine. It’s not her fault.