Do not make homes out of people. This will leave you homesick and sad, missing arms that cannot hold roofs, hearts with shaky foundations (Michelle K. ‘Home’)

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I think it’s weird that teenage girls know more about giving blowjobs than they do about masturbation. It makes me sick to my stomach that so many young girls think sex is just about a guy finishing (Elizabeth Olsen)

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Prompt me! What should my next post be about?

Prompt me.

Be suggestive.

Be evocative.

Be wily, insightful, humorous, or just be you. What do you want to see on this blog?

Following the example of one of my new favorite blogs, Writing to Survive, I want to begin writing a weekly short-ish piece based off of a randomly selected prompt. 

A prompt can be anything at all- a word, a quote, a current event, or maybe even a question. It’s useful for me because it helps expand my experience as a writer, and it appeals to my creative and slightly chaotic impulses.

I invite you, as my readers, to suggest a prompt using my Contact form, or by leaving a comment at the end of this post. I will always attribute the post to the person who prompted it, so if you need to be incentivized, then there’s publicity in it for you!

Never Again: Chapter 2

THIS POST IS THE SECOND OF A SERIES OF POSTS IN WHICH I DESCRIBE A RELATIONSHIP I HAD WITH AN EMOTIONALLY AND SEXUALLY ABUSIVE MAN. CHAPTER 1 IS HERE AND THE REST OF THE SERIES CAN BE FOUND ON THE STORIES & SERIES PAGE. THANK YOU FOR READING, AND PLEASE FEEL FREE TO SHARE THIS STORY SO THAT OTHERS CAN LEARN FROM MY EXPERIENCES INSTEAD OF NEEDING TO MAKE THE SAME MISTAKES. 

It was two weeks before Christmas, and Eli had driven up north to stay for the weekend and give me my Christmas gift. He wouldn’t tell me what it was.

He was due in before I got home from work that Friday, so I told him where the hide-a-key was and encouraged him to make himself at home.  That evening, he let me into my house and took me to the bathroom where he had drawn a bath, complete with scented candles and aromatic salts.

This was just the first part, he told me, closing the door so that I could undress and fully relax.

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Ladybugs are NOT sexy

After having a kitchen heart-to-heart with my “not that drunk” housemate, Elle (name changed for “anaminity”), this post is going to be about ladybugs. Because, as Elle so astutely commented, “Ladybugs are not sexy.”

Too true, Elle, too true.

Here’s the backstory…

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