Thumbs down. No more Lysol.
I like the Method brand of spray cleaners. They come in pretty colours and they smell good, especially the grapefruit version. The French Lavender might be a touch strong. They also work, something many product manufacturers don’t seem to worry about. You can even use it on wood, perfect for the lazy cleaner who hates walking back to the kitchen to grab a different spray. … Continue reading Thumbs down. No more Lysol.
Too much pain today.
I’m not being metaphysical. I’m struggling with pain today. Real pain. Body pain. My hips, to be specific, and not in a conversion kind of way. Because I’ve done conversion too. But transmuted pain mostly doesn’t feel like someone is slamming you in the back of your pelvis with a sledgehammer. At least they’re using a small one. It’s not that I want to be … Continue reading Too much pain today.
Reblog: “Teen mental health and self harm: Understanding why — Imagine Therapy”
I’m intimately acquainted with self-harm and have the scars and open sores to prove it. It’s a strange behaviour, one that’s hard to understand even when you engage in it. It’s hard to talk about and hard for the people in your life to “get”. It’s hard for them to know how to help and near impossible to say what you need. My mom bought … Continue reading Reblog: “Teen mental health and self harm: Understanding why — Imagine Therapy”
The dead are piling up.
The dead are piling up. The dead are piling up like dishes in the sink. The hospitals are full and so is the counter space, And nothing is as different as it seems. I came across a draft poem in one of my journal entries from April of last year. I don’t hate it. I’ve been reviewing last year’s diaries to see what life … Continue reading The dead are piling up.
From Famine to Feast 