Dangerous Compassions


Hey, that essay I had published in BiWomen Quarterly about being my own girlfriend–you can read it separated out also.  Nice for sharing!  I love this essay and believe in the project, whole-heartedly.

being my own girlfriend experiment

We cycled over to this community garden and were treated to a sweet tour.  A kind man came with his keys and unlocked the door for us, after he saw me trying the doors, wistfully.  His plot was full of delicious mustard greens.  I adore gardens in winter–I adore community gardens all day.

Ming took my pic by this container.  God, I love containers.  And this container in particular is pretty.  I get excited by their words and numbers, bumped and used looks, earthy colors, official seal, any graffiti upon them, boxy elegance.  The stories they would tell, of containing.

Then there is the sky. I feel excited by multiple cloud types together.  Doesn’t this look like a painting?  Clouds are everything.

Yesterday at the park, we paused on our walk.  My visiting friend took a pic of me by this giant bunny.  Playground sculpture is too good.

Thank you to sculptors who make gorgeous megafauna art for kids to climb on joyfully, and crazy adults such as myself to love inordinately.  I will be a beautiful bunny with you.

That’s my dress with SQL on it.  You should hear me trying to explain what SQL is–not a programming language itself, but used for managing data, and it has these commands…  I like the bright teal with the dark pinks of the print.


Friendship is a great pleasure, to be seen for who I am and enjoyed mutually.  Like art, the sky, and wearing weird clothes.  We have so much to live for.

Money could buy you massage, escorting, getting a haircut, food, and other services and products.  But friendship is free and priceless.  Love to the friends.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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