Stationary Abyss
As the leaves fall and seasons change, I’m home again. Home. There’s a familial concept often devoid of proper sustenance and sustainability in a world that is constantly evolving and changing your narrative without consent. My dog and I walk, we sit in the sun, I write, he guards. The leaves fall as the concrete jungle echoes in the surround sound. The past twenty-four months or so have been one hell of a ride. Palatable heartbreaks, unpalatable contentions, the loss of self and soul, the absence of ride or die truth sayers. The list certainly doesn’t stay static. About a year ago, my Dad said he had cancer. We had known for a few weeks before we told anyone. We knew. We thought it was lowkey, minor, just another blip on the radar. It was not. Last October, I received an award, and after FaceTiming my Dad, my friends said he looked sad. I couldn’t tell them then. I couldn’t tell them why I was crashing out that weekend. Less than a month later, urgent and emergent pla...