Avoir l’esprit de l’escalier
Words about no words
I am sickened by those who reveled in talks of rape and racism, laughed at bleeding, dying women and trod upon the tender bones of children who only had the crime to exist as these evil, disgusting people thought they shouldn't.
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Tis but my name
When I was 16, many thousands of years ago, I changed my name in my head and with any new people I met to Jyllian/Jyll...
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A woman of seven and twenty
A woman of seven and twenty,said Marianne, after pausing a moment, can never hope to feel or inspire affection again.”
~~Jane Austen
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Twas the Old Road
With this last birthday the thought I'd been shoving to the very back of my mind became too large to ignore. And it is interesting...
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If we live long enough
It seems trivial perhaps, but to me, an interesting triviality.
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Washing the sand with my ghostly tears
The Lion and the Cobra by Sinéad O'Conner is being played on my turntable right now. It seems fitting. My second copy, I wore one...
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Self Medicating
verb self-med· i· cate ?self-?me-di-?k?t self-medicated; self-medicating; self-medicates 1 transitive : to treat (something) by self-medication people who attempt to self-medicate depression 2 intransitive : to treat oneself by self-medication I ran out of...
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nos·tal·gia
a sentimental longing or wistful affection for the past, typically for a period or place with happy personal associations. What happens when the song comes up on Spotify. 10th grade- Blue...
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The Building’s identity
Does this shit ever end? Do we just keep crossing the identity bridge over and over-adjusting and readjusting, putting on and taking off all the hats?
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Once again, Democracy is on the line
America is full up with insanity. I'm beyond shocked and disgusted at what was beneath the surface of what I thought was a basically good...
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Some of us think holding on
makes us strong, but sometimes it is letting go. ~Herman Hesse It's been, as they say, a journey. And I'm standing in the doorway, crossing...
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Everything has been figured out
except how to live--Sartre Loooong time no write. First a dead mother and a last ever visit with the sister. Then a pandemic. Then a...
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photos
Not artistry, snapshots. Of cats and kids and where we used to live in Fayetteville, AR