It was the cardboard sign attached to her back, written in red paint. I always look at these people closely, the ones begging at intersections and red lights, the ones who make me feel uncomfortable. Do they look needy enough? I never believe those whose tennis shoes are newer and more expensive than my four year old Nikes.

As a person who drags ( Read more... )

 Dedicated to my two favorite scab pickers, Chris and Eliot ( Read more... )

I was walking to class the other morning with a fellow student.  It was early, all of 8:30.  I was carrying a giant box of tee-shirts, not heavy but laborious, down Hal Greer BLVD.  A white SUV, stopped at a red light, honked.  The man behind the wheel pointed at me.   "Is he pointing at us?"  I asked Judy.  Before she could reply, the well-dressed ( Read more... )

  Dear Strangers ( Read more... )

My past is not an excuse; it is a catalyst to change my future.

I made a waterfall out of sand.  
I make smoke with my sand.

Sand is sand.  
Sand is fun to play with.  
Sand feels like dust in my hands.


( Read more... )

I am running scared ( Read more... )

Hey all!

This is just a test post.  Had this been an actual post I would have amazed and delighted you with my brilliant mind and great looks.  When I really have something worth posting, I'll post it.  :)

Until then, write the stories only you can tell.  
j