Just don’t let me disappear. I’ll tell you everything.

Apr 30

Days, turned months, turned years of confession. One big wooden confessional is where she lives, knees bent stiffly in a permanent position on the musty red velvet kneeler. Patellas shift painfully and knuckles grow stiff from praying with fingers crossed tightly. She confesses in a daily ritual to a void of empty souls and wandering promises.

It’s such an old familiar place but every day is a little different. Thin bones grow restless from their stiffened, restrained positions. Aching to punch right through the lattice and stare her penance straight in the face. Go ahead, give it to her good. Let the girl pay for these sins and bleed truths until there’s no white left on her sleeves.

Do the truths ever run out? What happens when there’s nothing left to confess?

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Free your hair and the rest will follow.

Apr 26

Sometimes when I really don’t sleep, or if the twins start crying before my flat iron heats up, I go to work looking all sassy “natural” like this.

I’m kind of digging Organix Moroccan Curl cream lately. It was a random drugstore find, which as any curly-haired girl knows – was a gamble. In love. Feel like I need to buy crates of it just in case they take it off the market.

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You want a revelation, some kind of resolution.

Apr 25

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April 23, 2012

Apr 23

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April 20, 2012 – Cover the Night

Apr 20

Viral video, followed by viral fallout, followed by an uninterrupted flow of communal and energetic calls to action. Opinions vary. I was moved. I wish there were more hours in the day, because I’d like to be part of tonight’s worldwide efforts to cover the night.

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