Because it’s raining, and my mother sits in the kitchen with a pencil reading Georgia Pine., first edits. I reflect. Typing in my Zen room, deep in the…
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We only get one heart, happy home. The place where breath comes easy, life’s complexities do not get in the…
Leave a CommentWhen I’m stressed, I clean. When I’m confused, I clean. When I’m angry, I clean. Exhausted, nauseated, in full-blown Benzo withdrawal. Not permitted by my…
2 Commentstoday is a three-part kind of day I know. I used to see Phillip Seymour Hoffman in the Village, head-down, unassuming posture. The year was…
Leave a CommentThey ask too much, expect more from me. To sit in a room with gut wrenching, broken, beaten down souls. There is too much pain, upon…
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