I AM SO TIRED.
So tired I cannot feel the ground beneath me. So tired I cannot see the horizon. What do you do when even the promise of rest feels like a lie? (Or worse—another task to fail.)
There is light, faint and trembling, on the periphery. A figure, impossibly tender, reaching out. I should rejoice. I should step forward. If only
Related Blogposts
I met my students as a teacher at the academy for the first time today. I introduced me as my poetic self and tried to stay true to the communicative characteristics related to this. Not too much instruction, focusing instead on relating what was interesting seen from my point of…
An untamed and flaming play