I have always been an outsider—at home, among friends, in the world, even in my own skin. Only my mind refuses to cast me out.
Someone told me that even sea slugs can learn to write, so here I am, writing my time away.
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The woman said, ' I am a sinking sea slime; slimy, cold, leathery, shapeless. I live in the mud at the bottom of the sea, listening to i...
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I’ve never been a friend of November, but lately I’ve been trying to learn to appreciate it more. So I wrote two sentences in my black-paged...
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My limbs ache, and my whole body feels stiff. I stretch and become aware of the rain pattering against the window. I’ve been so absorbed in...
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