Content Warning: This piece of fiction depicts evidence of self harm and severe depression. The November wind sliced through my jacket as I ran up the steps to your front door. I found you curled on the kitchen floor, emotionally broken and surrounded by the instruments of your destruction. I stepped carefully over them and… Continue reading Cornflake Girl
Let me tell you about the tragic underlying thought behind a potentially comedic event. So, I've been home by myself for a week. Side note: I'm so out of practice living alone! Anyhoo, it's like 11:30 or midnight or something and I have an intense desire for cereal. Cinnamon Life cereal, to be precise. With almond milk cuz I'm bougie. With all this freedom I have, leaving at midnight for cereal was a fucking THRILL! I put on my Sorta bra (it sorta supports me, ya know, just enough) and head out in my t-shirt and gym shorts. Now, if you know me, you know I love pockets. I can't… Continue reading This Isn’t Just About Cereal
The world has this stubborn habit of continuing after a tragedy. The sun still shambles along the sky chasing the ever elusive moon. Rivers still run their perpetual marathon. The earth still spins as if showing off her pretty dress. They are too preoccupied to notice your trivial tragedies. Indeed, some subjectively are. How dare… Continue reading Stubborn Habits
Shut Up, Shani! 