Category: in my head
lilliputian logs
When I can’t quite build a thought out into something solid enough for this blog, I will often post it to Instagram with the tag #LilliputianLog. The last weeks have seen a few of those posts so I thought I’d share them and the content here for those who aren’t on the other platform. _______________________________________ 05.27 #LilliputianLog It is 2020. My mask matches my dress. I … Continue reading lilliputian logs
f.w.b.
I didn’t tell anyone about the first date I had after Dave died, until after. I was afraid it would be an embarrassing disaster, so I made up an excuse and strolled out the door. It turns out I didn’t do anything horrible at the date. I didn’t spill a glass of wine everywhere. (I’m not sure why I’m always worried about this particular thing … Continue reading f.w.b.
journal: tables & cages
Goodness knows I don’t know what to say. My phone rings, and I answer it, and the first few minutes will be the conversation no one can stop having, or the avoidance of said conversation. It was like this in jail. It is like this every time someone dies. It is like this now because of a global trauma. I let the phone ring, because … Continue reading journal: tables & cages
how
How to explainI did not walk out of prisontucked in thankfulness,blessing the cageless sky.How to explainthe moon has never been the samesince you took her from me.How my losses didn’tjustfill up with gratitudelike a wave chasing a wave.I went searching for it.Picked shells from the sand where I found them.Named them all Peace.If the name didn’t take,I set them back. How to explain my fingersare … Continue reading how
journal: how i am
A little after week in California’s Safer At Home restrictions, a girlfriend and myself text each other at nearly the exact same time. She tells me that, in her family’s language, they say “the heart is on the heart” but that it doesn’t quite exactly translate to English. I tell her that my family says “you’re going to live a hundred years”, which is spoken … Continue reading journal: how i am
dream sequence
In my dream, I am at the crosswalks that cut through my home. (A place I stood before I knew I would live there one day, but I can tell– in this dream, that is a memory. Living here at all is a memory.) The sun is beach-city bright, playful with its ocean accent. Roll and loll. Wave and tide. It splashes under my sunglasses. … Continue reading dream sequence
journal: a tantrum
When I say that things are up and down, this post represents the down. If you’re not up to it, biggest hugs, skip it with my love. xo. Continue reading journal: a tantrum
rarasaur 