Not reporting a theft could save a life, my mental health is no longer killing my plants.
Strangers in the house and Gym culture (and clutching for straws)
Youtube, good exhaustion, child Q, Nazanin Zaghari-Ratcliffe/Annosheh Ashoori
Wailing about the self-destructive waterlogged first month of the year, and learning how to escape it
I’m bloody tired
It feels awkward, suspicious to be someone of few opinions.
Ever so slightly so that it barely matters
My Grandma has Dementia, but somehow that’s done nothing for my own memory.
A fully alive, fully outstretched black person taking up as much space as they need is the most frightening black person, so be scary.
They just watched us get darker and darker, welcoming in the deeper glow, disgusted. But what could they do?