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I don’t want to be that little girl who’s scared of a mirror because she thinks there might be a monster behind the glass that everyone but her can see. I don’t see a monster in other disabled people, I see beauty and strength. I know what it’s like to some extent, what it...
to an old song ♫ ♫ ♫a haircut January 15, 2017 by winterblume A haircut The sound of the scissors as they cut through the silence and through her hair soothed the woman who sat on a green wooden chair ♫ ♫ ♫ A bit of talk now and then until the song of the clipp...
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High cheeks curved smoothly to pointed chin; the nose was straight and not overlong; the mouth was generous and smiling, just a little. His hair was dark brown, chopped off blunt at the bottom of his ears, and one lock of it straggled across his forehead, over level dark brows and ...
There were other things, too, about Lahore, and about Pakistan, things that had bothered me growing up but now seemed magnified to alarming proportions – the incomprehensible extremes of wealth and want, the insurmountable divisiveness of class, and, most worrying of all, the overwhelming self-...
Another Day Another Saturday Night Any Way You Want It Anybody Going To San Antone Are You Gonna Go My Way Around and Around As Tears Go By As Tears Go By As Tears Go By As Tears Go By As The Years Go Passing By Ask Me No Questions At the Hop Authority Song Authority Song B.E....
meeting a friend for drinks after work and had a little time to kill so, rather than drink alone (not that there’s anything wrong with that), I went to Bryant Park. For such a small park it holds a big place in my heart. You can feel the seasons change there. This song…Read ...
and I'm sure the slutty sorority girls and that fucking awful Soulja Boy song followed them there. Pete hops behind the bar and gets to work. He grabs bottles of Jagermeister, Goldschlager, and Rumpleminze, and dumps them all together in a shaker. For those of you who don't know, Rump...
The first time I did it, I hurt myself. I bent down, and had to unplug the wire from the fax machine and stick it into the grey box. The modular connector’s tongue clucked into place. Then there was the dial tone. Waiting for the world to pick up. Then the electronic blizzard....