Would I rather be able to talk to animals
Or speak every language in the world
Two cups, two signs, two Baristas
Coins in each bucket
Every day it changes into something else
Some other dilemma to toss over
Each question a tough call
Something to mull over while your tea steeps
Standing in the bath room
Staring into my eyes
Continue reading “Tipping”
A party in my childhood home
Three-ten South Street
I lived there for six years
And it’s exactly two thousand nine hundred eighty three miles away
It was the last house I lived in
Which was eight years ago
And in this dream I have every week
I throw a party there
High school friends, college friends, people I’ve never met
Drinking booze and breaking things in my old home
That I only ever had one friend visit
I dream of this story often
Continue reading “Haunted”
Coming out, very unfortunately, is everything. You don’t want it to be. But it is.
Because you are probably exposing someone to something that they don’t want to understand.
“I wouldn’t expect that,” isn’t hurtful on its own.
But unfortunately, it is a micro-aggression, whether they like it or not, and it says “This thing you are isn’t even on my radar for me to think about.”
It is crushing.
But even worse than that?
Continue reading “Come Out, I Love You”
“A broken spine, a concussion, several other broken bones, and oh right, you put him into a coma! We needed him to talk!”
Outside The Futokka Otoko: Yamanouchi, Japan
July 20, 2007: 11:21PM
Kim and Ron listened to one of the Yamanouchi cops go off on them for ten minutes. By this point the kids had all been shipped off, and with the help of six orderlies, they managed to unearth the Sumo Ninja and send him on his way to the hospital.
“We’re sorry. It won’t happen again,” Kim said, her eyes darting back and forth between the officer and Ron, who had remained silent the whole time.
“Do your parents even know you’ve been here?”
“Believe me, they know,” Kim growled, grabbing Ron by the hand and leading him off of the crime scene. “I’m hungry. You hungry?” she asked, forcing a smile at him. He didn’t respond.
Continue reading “Measure of a Mook Chapter 5 (a Kim Possible fanfic)”
It was the night Alyssa Liston humiliated Katrina Gawain in front of the whole cafeteria over her total “lessy crush” on her.
Not really a good night for crime fighting, but hey, you win some, you lose some, and then you end up recreating the iconic image of a vigilant crusader perched atop a gargoyle.
Cape softly fluttering in the wind with the perfect flair of drama, flapping almost too in tune with the popularized image of the watchful crusader.
Car horns and sirens overcame the soundscape below. Thousands of little yellow squares pasted on each building were a gateway to thousands of stories.
Yet the sting of Alyssa Liston hadn’t gone away quite yet.
Continue reading “Let’s Go Be True”
Naked flesh on the mattress pad
Nether regions glowing a soft red
‘Neath the warm autumn glow through the sheets
I should love myself right now I think
Yet before anything even happens
A throbbing pain like a split nerve
Sticking to the sharpie stained finger is
A droplet of red
A year on estrogen and spironolactone
Has made me so ugly
A body trying to be
Continue reading “Transition”
We live in a world where I can come home from work to the sounds of gunshots and sirens blaring from behind a closed door, and it has such little effect on me as I slip off my shoes and think about what I would like to make for dinner.
Violence is a tragedy; an unfortunate piece of humanity that springs up in the most intense forms of disagreements between dueling personalities. But we are surrounded by it at all times. To encourage violence, to make it as stylish and flashy as possible, pushes dialogs that give voices to our murderers, our rapists, and these Nazis that have somehow become a legitimate political view in our country.
Alright, alright. That’s strike 1. Called someone a Nazi right out of the gate. Right away, bam! Godwin’s Law. Don’t worry. It won’t happen again.
Continue reading “Big Hats Over the San Fernando Valley: Misunderstood Trauma in Hollywood”
Rain pattered against the window to Katrina Gawain’s bedroom. Blue light from the computer illuminated her harassed face, dark rings under her eyes darting between a blank document and a Wikipedia article on Benedict Arnold.
“You know Wikipedia’s not a great source for — ”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m just using it for the bibliography at the end,” Katrina grunted while pasting a link into her Works Cited to later clean up.
Continue reading “Benedict Arnold”
Prequel to Mr. Bear or How to Ignore Your Problems and Become the Beast You Always Feared You Were but you can read it out of context.
Men stumbling aimlessly through the streets at night alone can be seen as romantics despite the likely inner turmoil, but for a bear to do the same is anything but.
Bears are carnivorous vile killers that devour us so they can lazily slumber through a cold winter, as if we are a luxury to them.
It was a bear that wandered the streets alone that fateful night, and the city slickers who passed by were fortunate that this bear was in a dour mood for to see a bear often signals death and last rites and such.
Continue reading “Argyle Sweater Weather or How to Unlock Your True Sense of Being But Not Really”
“Alright, Ron, I want you on the hostage situation. I’ll take care of the mob, okay?”
“KP, you sure? These guys are packing, I want to be there with you.”
The Futokka Otoko: Yamanouchi, Japan
July 20, 2007: 9:42PM
A dark night in Yamanouchi. Clouds loomed overhead, threatening a storm.
Kneeling on top of a dilapidated nightclub was Team Possible. Ron was dressed in his standard mission attire, Kim in her battle suit; it was the only way she could really keep up with Ron in the missions now. The wind was blowing harshly.
“Ron, trust me. Sensei and Yori have trained you well for a hostage mission where you have to get in and out unnoticed,” Kim explained earnestly.
“KP, you’re talking to the guy who always loses his pants.”
“You’re not going to lose your pants. We’ve come a long ways from there,” Kim affirmed. At least I hope. “My suit will help me against the mob, but I need you to focus on getting those kids out of there.”
Continue reading “Measure of a Mook Chapter 4 (a Kim Possible fanfic)”