Remember that first Back to School assignment where you had to write about your summer? I loved the chance to share when I had something worth writing about. Like the summer of 1996, when I saw Independence Day six times in the theater and kissed a boy on a bridge in Yosemite, Ca, in 1994.
When wildfires burn the surface of the Earth, they are easily seen. Blame is cast, though all signs point to climate change. Fathomable rage. But, what’s unfathomable to imagine is the blaze held within such a celestial body, and she still somehow holds it all together, though her cracks are showing for us all to see.
This blog contains subjects that may trigger religious, mental, emotional, and sexual traumas.
And it’s hella Blasphemous. Read with caution.