Thirty minutes before I have to leave for the airport, I decide I need to get rid of my tongue ring. I’m over it and I need it out. Today. Right Now.

I’m on stage, dancing half-heartedly and not shaking ass. I turn to Josh, my DJ, and give him a wide eyed look. “What the fuck,” I mouth. He shakes his head and mouths back, “I know.”

we’re in redneck country and i’ve got my feet up on the dash, playing shania twain and lady gaga off of my phone. there’s no one else around except the attendant and the sound of the great canadian forest.

I like being on top. I like leaning over and feeling the heat of his skin, my nipples tracing his eyes, his nose, his lips. I like feeling his thick bulge underneath me and I like sitting my full weight on it.

Because of my job, I meet a lot of people all the time. And the one conclusion I can always draw is that people are crazy. If it’s not one thing, it’s another - every time and without fail.

I saw a vision - of light splitting from darkness, of a formidable expanse in the middle of everything. And at the end of it all, there I was - turning, changing, mutable thing.

I need my life to be authentic and filled with love. I need the people around me to mirror this desire. I need reality to bend into the shape of my redemption.

things you can’t say yet but soon you’ll be able to: 1. i don’t care about the united states presidential election. 2. i want to be skinny forever. 3. i love money.

In the bathroom, I braid my hair under a Venus cazimi and I’m the most beautiful I’ve ever been. My lover walks in with sleepy eyes and kisses me in a way that can only happen in private.

I read a story about a Dutch woman who dies by assisted suicide. She said the pain of living is too great. She’s right. In a way. Of course.

I let go of a memory and the next one in the series pops up, dragging me under and back in time. I want to be free of these ghosts but I don’t want to forget who I am.