Humanity: Raw & Unfiltered
It doesn’t take much to set that feeling off in me—racing heart, the inability to settle my hands if I try to type. I no longer experience a temptation to raise my voice as I once did, though sometimes—like today—when my body gets that jittery feeling that adrenalin or cortisol Read more
It’s a pain that is mental and physical all at once. It feels hard to move. My body aches as if I am sick, well, because I am sick. Mental illness is just that: an illness. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it isn’t real. Trust me, it Read more
I remember with clarity the last time I saw my grandmother. As I recall, I stood on her doorstep, staring through the stained-glass door as her small frame moved inside. She was smaller, greyer, glassier in the eye, and as I also saw, annoyed by my arrival. She opened the Read more
On a blank wall a purple line rises and falls as the painter walks alone, can in hand, heart fast, breath shallow, hopes high. The line will soon disappear at the hand of another painter, hired to cover this expression of joy, as it will be thought of by the Read more
There are no secrets. It’s just that many do not see the obvious. I hate it when people deny the obvious. Sometimes I hate the obvious, too. And here I am with my flashlight. Not flood lights. Not even a torch. Day after day we stumble around cloaked in insignificance, Read more
*Opening of a short story entitled ‘Camille’ focusing on a perceived vampire of the Victorian era, Camille Monfort. Men flock to me as hungry birds, ravenous for otherness, an exotic morsel to devour. I’m a unique flower, one that grows on mountaintops, cast away from all others that pale in Read more
Survive; Survivor; Survived. What does it mean? Is it what they survived? Or what we survived? What I survived? That’s definable – the ‘what’; Danger, violence, terror. The suffocating distress of it. But what does surviving look like? Is it still being alive? Is it still carrying on? Is it Read more
Four years later, Keith and I were married and living in New York City, and Jordan was no longer a “young bullock without blemish.” He still had his issues with school, and Mom and Dad transferred him from the suburban public high school the rest of us had attended to Read more