I don’t know if I should publish this. Because then some people won’t want to date me. And that would be sad.
Some days, I'm like, "Stop the world! I want to get off!" I'd rather power down my iPhone, jump on my bike, and ride as far as I can to the other side of the horizon.
It feels strange to start my writing on Hevria by admitting I'm speechless. But they wouldn't let me publish a niggun.
Listen: let my whisper part the veil, penetrate the matrixed basement membrane, cross the blood-brain barrier, enter your most...
What's with all the confessional writing on sites like ours (and all over the web)? Isn't it selfish? Wouldn't it be better to write outside of ourselves?
A poem:
"You pray for silkworms and butterflies.
Dance, and your twisting wrists chafe against shackles.
Sing, and grey moths escape your open throat."
Like this post if you've ever had too many thoughts in your head at once. Like it if any of them have ever given you a shiver, or a stomachache, or a physical pain.
Or, how I learned to get out of my own head.
Elizabeth has a lot of things on her mind. Lots of little, tiny, lovely things.