and when new deaths are coming in, day by day, you realize the weight of a name, of a life, and it is the same weight no matter who you are and what you've done or haven't done; it is the weight of a human life and it is the same but it is not weighted the same here when the homeless are huddled in shelters and only the rich can stock up on their groceries
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We Are Drowning, How Should We Kill Our Time?
PoetryThis collection of stream of consciousness prose was written during a very special time in my life. I left the city following a massive burnout, and lived in the country for months. I began a garden, cut most of my ties to the outside world, and wro...
