Suddenly, all the stories of dumb tourists who went into the desert with the Bedouins, only to be raped, robbed, or murdered, seemed like they were headed our way.
Almost all of the greatest loves (and tragedies) of my life have been painful and incurable. I’ve started to think of myself as a hopeless poet who is forever a slave to forbidden or unrequited love.
Just once, I wanted the choice to be who I was, without anyone knowing my history or telling me what to do.
My limbs were numb, my voice was cold, I couldn’t look him in the eye.
I didn’t want to live like him but I didn’t want to die.
The bricks on the street were shiny from the rain, and pieces of grass had pushed themselves up through cracks. … More
My shoelaces tapped the asphalt of platform twenty-seven. Yes, that’s right, I was sitting at the twenty-seventh platform of the … More
Okay, if you haven’t heard of Grigori Rasputin, you are in for a wild ride. This man, also known as … More
I was walking down a crooked cobblestone alley in Antwerp, Belgium. The stones were shiny and wet from the rain … More