To my daughter: You asked to know more about me.

Thursday morning:

This 6 a.m. August daylight of the Arizona desert still carries the coolness of the storm from two days ago. I can see the dim sunlight filtering in through the cheap wood blinds, just enough to illuminate the beautiful plants by the window. The house is quiet. The dogs are…read more

The trip is over. My body continues to recoil, revolting against me for the drugs I consumed earlier. Against my will, I leave the sanctuary of my bed and make my way through the dark living room, where I feel my way to my favorite spot and then to my laptop. For the first time I am forcing myself to write, but I have no other choice. Both my…read more