Dangerous Compassions

we love you, spider

I asked Ming to photograph me, so I can show my friend my new Totoro shirt.  We were happy to see I got photobombed by Holy Mother.  We were laughing.  “I didn’t know she was like that!” I told Ming.

Cleaning my desk, I find stashes of this or that.  Some old postcards people sent me.  A lot of stationery I haven’t used yet.  Little piles of scrap paper, angular, left from a project.  Some zines read, unread, or half-read.  Some zines by me.  Beads, business cards, stickers, bits of thread, button badges, homemade Spanish flashcards, fox washi tape, a penny…

I see my good intentions–a postcard I never replied to from an activist prisoner friend, next to the blank postcard I was going to use to write back to him.

I bought some lime essential oil that was inexpensive–got it home and saw the little bottle had been opened, inside the box.  I complained to the company, so they sent me a fresh bottle. 

So now I have two bottles of lime essential oil–smells delicious.  But I only needed around seven drops of it!  I guess I could use more in the future.  But let me know if you want some. 

I offered it to my friend who’s doing an afterschool program to empower teenagers, but she told me today, they have enough already.  I offered her magazines for collage also, but she says they’re good on magazines now as well.

Ming told me it would be cool if we were human-plant hybrids and could photosynthesize.  I’ve actually been thinking about that for a long time.  I said, “Maybe one day.  You never know.  We could get bit by the right spider.”

He said, “We would need to get bit by a plant.”

I said, “Yeah, a spider plant!” 

My mom grew those, when I was a kid.  I remember them making little clone-babies.  Maybe that helped me love plants.  Life is amazing.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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