…It, this thing, had so much promise such newness. It tasted like wind, like cool water, I felt it land on me like sun rays.
A writer, thinker, dreamer, artist, musician, and psychologist. I write as a form of feeding my social justice heart, and as political revolutionary acts. In this creative sculpting, I seek to unite all of the pieces that were supposed to be lost, but were not, all of them were kept by me and I suppose my higher power. They live, and so if writing is an act of loving this means that my freedom, our freedom is near.
Loving someone is both sacred and vile. Vile because it, the thing we cannot name, becomes something that binds us in light and darkness; surely will grow or change while it creeps into some dark, rusty, abandoned place, through circumstance, non-believing, or some other form of organic drizzling. Like a remnant memory from one of…
Everybody. Deserves. Housing.
…There should be a range of housing choices for people based on room number, neighborhood, pet eligibility, and proximity to public transit, work, schools, and daycares.