People who equate truth with fact are missing the point.

An Eternal Multitude of Despondency

No Points for Style

Instead of letting me go in an ambulance, my parents drove all the way from Albuquerque, New Mexico to Prescott, Arizona to take me from the tiny regional medical center where I had been for nine days to the much larger hospital in Phoenix. . . . → Read More: An Eternal Multitude of Despondency

Sanctimonious Concern

There are times to call police, but there are also times to speak our concerns to each other, and there are times to check our 21st century, first-world paranoia and let it go. . . . → Read More: Sanctimonious Concern

You Chose

No Points for Style

If only we were half as powerful as we believe ourselves to be. . . . → Read More: You Chose

The Trajectory

When you take a child to the doctor, you are a fallible human presenting a fallible human to a fallible human. . . . → Read More: The Trajectory

Darkness Is a Cannibal

No Points for Style

I remember walking up the stairs to Robert’s apartment, determined to end the hateful stalemate that was immoveable, static, a mountain or a moon, and I walked up the stairs trembling and I would end it. I would end it if I died. . . . → Read More: Darkness Is a Cannibal

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