of self love, vulnerability, and of course, donkeys
When you wake up, do you feel a balloon in your throat, too? Or maybe it's a corset: too small and too snug, cinched up tighter than poor Kate Winslet's mom did to her in 'Titanic.' "Hold still," I think she said before she yanked again. Or is it that feeling of having had too... Continue Reading →
It’s the middle of the night. Last time I looked at the digital clock on my nightstand, it said “2:44” and that seems like hours ago. I’m laying on my back with the blanket balled up beneath my chin and my eyes closed, hoping that somehow, someway, sleep will take me. I know in my... Continue Reading →
A Donkumentary 