I have the plague and my insides are oozing out of me and spilling out onto toilet paper and concrete. I like to think that this slime is a direct result of things rotting away under my skin: decomposing lungs, lobes, and cells ( Read more... )

You Learn Something New Everyday ( Read more... )

Sixty seconds in one minute. Sixty minutes in one hour. Twenty four hours in a day, three hundred sixty five days in a year, ten years in a decade, ten decades in a century, ten centuries in a millennium and twenty-three minutes until the heart-wrenching conclusion of Law and Order ( Read more... )

Goodbye Arizona.

Goodbye United States.

Hello world.

(How on earth is my entire life supposed to fit into one suitcase? And why did I not start packing sooner?)

In which a sunrise is watched and things surprisingly don't fall apart; they just fade away.I am sitting on the balcony of our apartment. It's five in the morning, and the rooster down the street has been crowing for the past three hours, either because he's inflicted with a deadly case of Macho Syndrome and believes that the sun will not rise ( Read more... )

"Survival of the fittest, buddy," I say and crush him with death in my forefinger ( Read more... )

I quit ( Read more... )

Who is this face behind my left shoulder, sinister in the full length mirror, white and skeletal next to my naked figure in the early mornings and late nights between life and sleep, or love and death? Who am I? Not real. Anti-me. The not-me that gets up in the morning and walks with rocks in her not-shoes to the job and talks with other not- ( Read more... )

Today I stole a pear, and then I ate it with a knife and cold ripe pear-juice dripping down my fingers.

It was delicious.

I was just looking into the fridge, and I saw the pears in a drawer, where they had been sitting for the past month and a half. Rotting. Instead of being eaten, they were sitting there and rotting.

Who will eat these pears? ( Read more... )

February is, has always been, and now will forever be the worst month of the year. Thank you predisposition and pessimism. Or maybe fate and hormones? Who knows. Maybe I should start grinding the answer up and snorting it with hundred-dollar bills every morning ( Read more... )