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Category Archives: Why God Why

adapted from journal entries

cw: family grief 1/27/16 Of all the moments here at my grandmother’s, the one that felt the most… important? I dont know, words fail—was going through the top right drawer of her dresser, looking for the ring. Being in Dee’s room at all. Mom and me and my sister looking at her bookshelf. Not the […]

memoirs of the midwives of horror

[content warnings: anatomy descriptions; racist behavior; tech industry misogyny and graphic relationship violence] [This is nonfiction, but it is a historical pastiche of multiple events, companies, and individuals.] [0] They told us Think Different. Different like Cesar Chavez, Amelia Earhart, Jim Henson, like that was a sentence that made any kind of sense. They put […]

I’m sorry, San Francisco, I couldn’t help it

(Lyrics. Something about hanging out with the musical side of my family brings ’em on. Deeply infused with Paul Simon, who I always associate with trips to the Bay Area, hills, and fog due to a couple of early family trips listening to a tape of his stuff Robert made for us.)

Hello, Hello

There’s something about viewing the full life of an artist that’s comforting. Clay didn’t get a full, long trajectory of his own, and it feels like a horrible cosmic mistake. But he’d played a prodigious number of songs for a kid his age.

Someone Else’s Neuroses

Everything in my room was covered with a white, chalky, spotty film of what I can only think of as poison. It was on my accordion case, my alarm clock, my shoes. The floor was covered with dried puddles of varnish, poison, and dead bug bodies, which when handled indelicately would leave blackish-red smears of gore on the pale flooring. Bed bug freaking Vietnam.