hefty deadlines stoop my shoulders waist low. indoor cycling is effortless compared to penning the ride to paper. can’t i just execute push ups for the next 10 days straight, rather than describe one, perfect, singular push-up in arial font, double spaced by...
i sit here, and can feel my face age as i type. the back of my brain sloping up and over my forehead snuffing out my eyebrows. with my iris’ in tow, my temples have strung themselves out on opposite sides of the room giving my geisha heritage more facial real...
bated breath. tom ford’s directorial debut: “a single man.” julianne moore can send me into the fetal position without uttering a word. corpse blue, she still manages to outperform her peers. heard colin firth already took home best actor honors in...
i had a silly good time with susan and tania at blue springs home. i finally saw, in person, the tumbleweeds, susan had been bragging blogging about. pretty! pretty! pretty! like crinoline and tulle peaking out over baskets and buckets. only susan could make dead,...
swear to god this virginia woolf bitch is kicking the shit out of me. furiously, red read the same page nine times last night. three entire sheets of paper dedicated to paint strokes ten years passed. i’m the one ready to put stones in my overcoat. and my does...
