Hypnotized in a swirl of audible color, I’m instantly at ease from the start of this song.

I don’t know how many hours have passed. All I know is I really have to pee, but I will go on holding it.

My YouTube algorithm will attest—I love a juicy psychology hack.

I’m not here to spoil anything, but five minutes in, there were tears.

But then, this question came through the side door of my thoughts: “Aren’t you sick of wondering?”

Get it together Webster. Make some words for these.

Like nails on a chalkboard, her advice screeched into my psyche. That’s exactly what I didn’t want to hear and exactly what I needed to.

This is a side of my grandma I’ve never met, and I suspect, is one she hasn’t either.

The groom’s vows articulated love in one of the most meaningful ways I’d ever heard.

One of these dreams isn’t notable, but now that I’m having multiple of them, I’m wondering what they could mean.

We try to cram so much into a life that is devastatingly too brief.

In acquiring a taste for contemplating paradoxes like these, I have gradually become repelled by tidy faith.

A clean Profit and Loss Statement? Yes, please. Say no more.

He hit a nerve. I felt tears welling and my hold on the doorknob tightened.

I remembered how committed I once was to finding beauty in the mundane of my everyday life and how that skill has gone rusty.

I take snippets of what hits all over again; what I want to keep.

I had just turned 8 the year that the whole sham was exposed.

I have things to get done and winter’s 4 pm sunsets aren’t helping.

The experience of laying the paper out and peeling it over for whatever reason enthralled me.

49% chance.