Fainting in D.C.
“You sure you haven’t been smoking weed?” he asked for the third time. “It’s fine if you have, it’s legal.”
“You sure you haven’t been smoking weed?” he asked for the third time. “It’s fine if you have, it’s legal.”
I think they might have arrested him in the end, but if they did I don’t know why.
“That’ll burn for hours—we’ll be here all night!” someone would observe. But no one ever minded.
Can anyone be trusted?
I love learning, I hate being bad at something.
“We live side-by-side with death.” And we are allowed to be afraid of it.
In another country and another time when I was only twenty-two, I somehow spoke this life into being.
It sounds like a ska band, but it was really just a dang good time.
Not every experience survives translation into meaning.
From the old dresses to the guitar for someone’s kid’s lessons, I was thrilled that my trash could be someone else’s treasure.