Tag: feminism

in which I acknowledge that turd on the carpet

I want to say so many things: all of the things, any of the things, but I don’t have it in me. It’s not here, it’s not happening, everything is stuck. I’m doing things instead: mobilizing. Gathering. Getting my shit back together.

on tardiness and better subjects

Everything is going to work out in the end. I keep telling myself that, because it is in the nature of things to be transient—as we are, ourselves, all transient. Everything changes, so when things are feeling crap I remind myself that hey, it can only be this way for so long, that the pendulum will swing the other way…