Posts Tagged: paranoia
There are two doors in our house: one in front and one in back. That should be sufficient, but you never know. There are two windows in the kitchen, but only one is big enough to crawl through. There’s a
Microphones. Popped buttons. Papercuts. There, on my left side, at the edge of my ribcage, is a strange red welt that won’t go away. You know what that means, right? That plus the mole and the ache in my lower
Lies My Body Tells Me (a list-in-progress): 1. I have cancer. Why does my back hurt? Must be the tumor on my spine. Why are my hands so papery? Cancer sucking me dry. Why am I so tired? Definitely cancer.
The final final final final (ha!) part of my editing process: Swept the front of my house and plucked my eyebrows with the notion that if I need to put my best foot forward then I better remove the chipped