I woke with the rain, my demon sitting on my chest, cold and inconsolable. I guess I should reconcile myself to it turning up every now and then, paranoia calling it back light a lighthouse beckoning ships. This is certainly better now though, the constant suffocation is but a dim memory. But some days, some gloomy stormy days it returns, whispering words of deceit and lies into my ear. I’ve come to learn that the best thing to do is listen, then open up and trust…in people and the old adage.
It will work out in the end
Our Selective Moral Outrage - There’s a Facebook post doing the usual rounds calling for the United Kingdom to try/extradite/spank Adele Balasingham, the widow of former Tiger theoretic...
2 weeks ago