Dangerous Compassions

garden fantasies

Fall is here.  Cold wind.  I’m making black-eyed peas, a great pleasure. 

Ming is out with a friend all day, dealing with court stuff in Nye County, and it’s quiet except for the windchimes and distant traffic.  The hum of the fridge.

The suicidal friend is still alive, this morning.  The radical mental health collective lives on too, for now.  Yesterday R’s sister got married.  Life happens.

At D’s baby shower, we wrote a lovenote on a piece of wood.  Feels good to want things: fresh salsa, friendship, help organizing my zine collection.  Garden fantasies.  I like figuring out what to do with surplus.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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