It’s okay to let language stretch and breathe. It has always done so anyway without asking for our permission.
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The headline, I’d imagine, is its own content warning, but let me be clear here: This is about suicide and suicidal ideation. It’s about me.
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The horrific nightmares I am having are only a taste of the nightmares that await if the next few months don’t go well.
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There is a part of Jackson Browne’s “Doctor My Eyes” that seems to seek me out and find me from time to time. It found me just now.
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A subdued 11th of September begins with a hope that it’s mostly quiet and brings opportunities for peace and healing, for all the reasons.
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Content warning: sexual assault, rape, racism, patriarchal power, double standards, misogyny, misogynoir.
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I’m writing this for me. By any of today’s guidelines and metrics, it’s too long. But it feels like the right way to take stock of my career.
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If you know why this mixup reminds me of “My Cousin Vinny” and the EYE-dentical cars, then feel free to laugh along with me.
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Business reporting has some of the most troubling practices I have seen since I started paying close attention. Today is no different.
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An opinion piece about chores and spirituality put me in mind of a time when I found a connection between seemingly unrelated things.
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