Levitating, in a “sort-of” fashion.
You levitate, you know. Gravity only mostly works. It’s only mostly working on you right now. I’m aware I sound like I’ve followed a bad YouTube thread; my counsellor’s pregnant silence when I first shared my thoughts was telling. But I have my usual amount of marbles and I didn’t join a cult*: there are no ravings about fake moon landings or interstellar mushrooms in … Continue reading Levitating, in a “sort-of” fashion.
Recovery, lying, and intergalactic attacks.
I’m feeling better on the depression front. Depression ends much of life’s momentum when it’s in the ascendancy so it’s good that it ebbs and flows. And since, to paraphrase the immortal Timmy, it’s currently flocking the other way, I’m writing again. When I can get a word in edgewise. Depression’s wane gives my eating disordered thinking the opening it was looking for. It’s not … Continue reading Recovery, lying, and intergalactic attacks.
I’m keeping the purse.
This piece talks about suicide which may trigger some. Be mindful. I have a pink leather Kate Spade purse I rarely use. Never use. I’m going to keep it anyway. For one thing, it sparks joy. It’s too small for my wallet, too casual for an evening bag, and too lush to toss into a backpack as a backup hold-all. It’s essentially useless. But it’s … Continue reading I’m keeping the purse.
Free-form posting.
It’s not that I’ve not been writing. It’s that I hate every word and send my attempts to the electronic paper shredder in the sky. All of it was meandering crap I couldn’t bear to look at. Pointlessly pointless. Unfortunately, regular deleting has a deleterious effect on productivity. New plan. No deleting. Post the less than perfect. This may backfire and result in zero writing. … Continue reading Free-form posting.
From Famine to Feast 