Forgotten, dismissed, discarded, boxed, and buried. There are so many things I need to let go of...
Category: Who Am I?
My Ritalin is making me tired.
Fairy tale tropes for a midwestern gothic are tantalizingly familiar, and when I think of home I see them all, their archetypes and allegories, characters we connect with in a malaise not beyond a garden wall, but right here, with us— in a place of enervated belief and heuristic magic.
This is the year I'm choosing love, so I guess that goes for myself as well. Hail, Mary, hale and weal, it's time to forgive myself.
It's time we stop victim-blaming the Eight of Swords, y'all.