But Aren't Many Gardens Beautiful Because They

Does My New Feminism Make Me Look Fat?

Who But The Mad Would Choose To Keep On Living? In The End, Aren't We All Just A Little Crazy?

He Smiles Sadly. "now I Know My Destiny." "what Is It?" "this." He Draws Me In To Him In A Kiss. His Lips Are Warm. He Pulls Me Tighter In His Embrace. The Roots Sigh And Release Their Hold On My Waist And The Wound In My Side Is Healed. "kartik," I Cry, Kissing His Cheeks. "it's Let Me Go." "that's Good," He Says. He Makes A Small Cry. His Back Arches, And Every Muscle In His Body Tightens.

He Told Me That Once, In The War, He’d Come Upon A German Soldier In The Grass With His Insides Falling Out; He Was Just Lying There In Agony. The Soldier Had Looked Up At Sergeant Leonard, And Even Though They Didn’t Speak The Same Language, They Understood Each Other With Just A Look. The German Lying On The Ground; The American Standing Over Him. He Put A Bullet In The Soldier’s Head. He Didn’t Do It With Anger, As An Enemy, But As A Fellow Man, One Soldier Helping Another.

I'm Like Everyone Else In This Stupid, Bloody, Amazing World. I'm Flawed. Impossibly So. But Hopeful. I'm Still Me.