I do not want this. With every fiber of my being, I do not want to be here. The heat. The ants. The fucking gravestone that I refuse to maintain. I never bring flowers. I shouldn’t have to. I should not have to come here. For fuck’s sake. It’s hot and humid today; the marble … Continue reading Catalysts are made to be burned.
Thoughts on Sigrún and Sigyn.
Love conquers nothing.
In which I try with limited success to avoid the cliche of Hamlet's most famous soliloquy.