Thin

I have tasted chocolate cake. I have tasted it sliding off my metal fork across my teeth onto my tongue and down my throat into my belly. Too sweet and chewy and dangerous. I have tasted it come back up my esophagus, into my mouth — bitter and slimy — and watched it fall into the toilet. I have tasted it off of my hand wiping my face. I have tasted it in my nose, blown out into a tissue. Continue reading

“How many women wrote beautiful novels and stories and poems and essays and plays and scripts and songs in spite of all the crap they endured. How many of them didn’t collapse in a heap of ‘I could have been better than this’ and instead went right ahead and became better than anyone would have predicted or allowed them to be. The unifying theme is resilience and faith. The unifying theme is being a warrior and a motherfucker. It is not fragility. It’s strength. It’s nerve. And ‘if your Nerve, deny you –,’ as Emily Dickinson wrote, ‘go above your Nerve.’ Writing is hard for every last one of us — straight white men included. Coal mining is harder. Do you think miners stand around all day talking about how hard it is to mine for coal? They do not. They simply dig.”

— Cheryl Strayed, Tiny Beautiful Things