My cat died last week.
We put her to sleep because she had been sick for many years, and finally went straight into renal failure. She was 20 years old. I was 5 when I named her. Trapeze. Because she was lithe af. Small, nimble, quiet.
She was a terrible cat. This is her eulogy.
Read MorePeople who don’t like their own birthday are running away from something.
“Attention.” They always say.
I don’t understand this personally — I love my birthday almost as much as I love attention — but whatever, fine.
Read MoreWhat is this urge to relocate and redefine our lives?
I know I’m not the only one who feels a recurrent desire to abandon what I know and leap into the void. But does everyone feel it?
Read MoreAre we as human beings not supposed to have expectations?
This is not a rhetorical question.
Read MoreWhere do we draw the line between having the courage to accept the things we cannot change and the courage to know when to say… fuck that?
Like all things worth writing into the void about, there is no single answer.
Read MoreIs the story of our life ours alone? Are we ever fully in control?
Maybe not. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try and say otherwise.
Read MoreSo much of how we feel about a place depends on our initial exposure to it. It’s why that place we call “home” will always be special. It will always incite that particular brand of nostalgia — even when we go through phases of hating it. It’s home.
Read More
