Survivor
Originally posted on Stoner on a rollercoaster:
Another pebble hurled at her So casually Like they toss pebbles In a pond And watch ripples blooming Just for amusement She catches it Tucks it in her pocket And pulls her shawl Tight around her Like it was a metal armor With a heavier pocket Firmer swaddle And faster steps She hastens back home On broken pavements… Continue reading Survivor
Karmic anvils.
I try to be a good person. It’s not always easy: I’m a little bit evil. Not evil-evil. Not “enslave a race and destroy an old-growth forest” or “bring back bell-bottoms” evil. I’m more “scathing social media comment” evil. I’m Twitter-mean-evil. Still, the zingers burn my soul. They bring existential angst. Can I call myself a good person if I mock an obvious racist’s grammar … Continue reading Karmic anvils.
I’m immortal, in an ‘I published a book’ kind of way.
I published a book. I’m immortal, like Ozymandias. [i] I’ll exist after the last tree has fallen and the last river has turned to dust. Or not. I have seller’s remorse. The temptation to undo what’s been done is enormous: that this mirrors bulimia, the theme of the book, is one of those strange coincidences life throws at you. A reminder to myself that what’s … Continue reading I’m immortal, in an ‘I published a book’ kind of way.
Carbs and Cages.
Eating disorders are about “shoulds,” but the rules turn into bars that trap you. I’m escaping: I’ve been easing my way back to the real world, but because some of me is still captive, some of the behaviours remain and try to exercise influence. They offer opinions on how I’m “supposed” to live my life. There’s a “correct” way to do things (I know this … Continue reading Carbs and Cages.
From Famine to Feast 