If I could, I would ask the dead about the secrets of life, raise spirits to help me understand this phenomena of cancer, the need
If I were to write every day for one hundred days, would my soul be purged of this malaise; is it a thing to be
Delegated to the back room, I am marginalized, invisible, employ-ability in question. I am a peripheral observer, self-conscious of my status, disintegrating at the edges.
I started this blog in 2011 as a gift to myself. I had just undergone a lumpectomy to remove abnormal cells from my right breast,
We are not islands: isolated, insulated, to be ignored. We are humans dancing through relationships, weaving our tales, intertwining stories, with lovers, friends, families, enemies,