day 5: daaaaaamn I gotta write some shit
what’s point of being holy if you’re not going to be happy while you’re at it? Also, why would god make butterflies and puppies and sunrises and nachos if (s)he didn’t care about our happiness?
day 4: random chance, bad luck, and sunshine
Yes, there’s a brilliant spark of creative intent at the beginning of all things but also: random chance, bad luck, sunshine, shitloads of human free will, evolution (maybe? don’t judge me), and lots of general shenanigans / fuckery. (how long O Lord?)
day 3: general existential discomfort
I’ve recently been increasingly aware of this design flaw in the system. And by “the system” I mean our whole entire human existence.
day 2: how life is supposed to feel
I’m realizing that “is this how this thing is supposed to feel?” is probably a counterproductive question. but still it runs laps through my head…
day 1: all the static and colors inside of me
I’m here because I want to be the kind of person who writes. I want to stay in the habit of putting words to all the static and colors inside of me. Even if it’s just for ten minutes.
Upon Looking at One’s Childhood Home on Google Maps
It’s been almost twenty-five years since I’ve been inside, but I remember it clearly (clear, like a photograph slightly yellow with age but infused with memories).
Final Notice
this is a poem about the
FINAL NOTICE
(Water Service has been scheduled for disconnection)
i found taped to my door this morning
and about the existential crises
inspired thereby
What I've Been Doing for The Past Six Months
You may remember I was super sad, and then I got divorced, and then I did a bunch of yoga and cooking, and then I stopped blogging. Now I’m back.
When Blogging Isn't Fun and Nothing Else Is Either
Yesterday at 3:17 p.m. I typed into Google “I don’t feel joy.” I had no reason to be unhappy, and yet…
How I Will Remember This House
Last night while I was mowing the lawn barefoot by the last light of dusk, I found myself wondering how long I’d be here. Is this little rental on the north edge of Minneapolis a many-years home, or just a right-now home? I don’t know.
Confessions
It’s not often that you find a place like this where you can share a bit of your life completely unedited and uncensored and be met only with love and belonging. I’d love for you to listen in.
Trying To Feel God
I’ve spent most of my life trying to feel God. Perhaps all along She was as close as my own skin.
When We Hit the Wall
Three hundred drivers spun out and crunched against walls and guardrails and schoolbusses and semi trucks today, a frozen flash mob symphony of crushed plastic and bent steel.
