CHI-CHI GIRL
And that was it. Right there. That was the moment. I suddenly realised that unless something changed soon I was going to live a life where my major relationship was with a bottle of wine… and I’d finally die, fat and alone, and be found three weeks later half-eaten by Alsatians. Or I was about to turn into Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction.
Bridget Jones’ Diary (2001)

Now hear this. What is freedom? Freedom is doing what you were designed to do. It’s obeying your own design. ‘Well,’ somebody might say, ‘that makes no sense at all. As far as I know, freedom is doing what you want.’ Let’s go with that definition for a while. Do you realize that’s okay to say? Freedom is doing what you want, but would you please admit how many conflicting wants you have?

Giving up can be for worse or for better.

Giving up can be for worse or for better.

Rich narratives, colorful cast…

The girl who reads has spun out the account of her life and it is bursting with meaning. She insists that her narratives are rich, her supporting cast colorful, and her typeface bold. You, the girl who reads, make me want to be everything that I am not. But I am weak and I will fail you, because you have dreamed, properly, of someone who is better than I am. You will not accept the life that I told of at the beginning of this piece. You will accept nothing less than passion, and perfection, and a life worthy of being storied. So out with you, girl who reads. Take the next southbound train and take your Hemingway with you. I hate you. I really, really, really hate you.

When being single seems like insanity in the ethnic community.

robbellcom:

Gospel is the shocking, provocative, revolutionary, subversive, counterintuitive good news that in your moments of greatest

despair,

failure,

sin,

weakness,

losing,

failing,

frustration,

inability,

helplessness,

wandering,

and falling short,

God meets you there-

right there-

right…

The Archipelago of Kisses

We live in a modern society. Husbands and wives don’t 
grow on trees, like in the old days. So where 
does one find love? When you’re sixteen it’s easy, 
like being unleashed with a credit card 
in a department store of kisses. There’s the first kiss. 
The sloppy kiss. The peck. 
The sympathy kiss. The backseat smooch. The we 
shouldn’t be doing this kiss. The but your lips 
taste so good kiss. The bury me in an avalanche of tingles kiss. 
The I wish you’d quit smoking kiss. 
The I accept your apology, but you make me really mad 
sometimes kiss. The I know 
your tongue like the back of my hand kiss. As you get 
older, kisses become scarce. You’ll be driving 
home and see a damaged kiss on the side of the road, 
with its purple thumb out. If you 
were younger, you’d pull over, slide open the mouth’s 
red door just to see how it fits. Oh where 
does one find love? If you rub two glances, you get a smile. 
Rub two smiles, you get a warm feeling. 
Rub two warm feelings and presto-you have a kiss. 
Now what? Don’t invite the kiss over 
and answer the door in your underwear. It’ll get suspicious 
and stare at your toes. Don’t water the kiss with whiskey. 
It’ll turn bright pink and explode into a thousand luscious splinters, 
but in the morning it’ll be ashamed and sneak out of 
your body without saying good-bye, 
and you’ll remember that kiss forever by all the little cuts it left 
on the inside of your mouth. You must 
nurture the kiss. Turn out the lights. Notice how it 
illuminates the room. Hold it to your chest 
and wonder if the sand inside hourglasses comes from a 
special beach. Place it on the tongue’s pillow, 
then look up the first recorded kiss in an encyclopedia: beneath 
a Babylonian olive tree in 1200 B.C. 
But one kiss levitates above all the others. The 
intersection of function and desire. The I do kiss. 
The I’ll love you through a brick wall kiss. 
Even when I’m dead, I’ll swim through the Earth, 
like a mermaid of the soil, just to be next to your bones.

By Jeffrey McDaniel

Sometimes she did not know what she feared, what she desired; whether she feared or desired what had been or what would be, and precisely what she desired, she did not know.
Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina
So you know my mind is not in a good place when all I’d rather do right now is find myself at the mall and mindlessly shop.

So you know my mind is not in a good place when all I’d rather do right now is find myself at the mall and mindlessly shop.