The Prolific Fox

The feeling is mutual.

"This is How I feel" A photographer documenting her bipolar mother If I've learned anything from the spattering of classes that have dominated my degree, it's that our memories are like a shattered mosaic -- glimpses of events put back... Continue Reading →

It’s time.

"Robin Williams is dead" --it came through a text from my estranged ex. "What??!!" was my reply. This can't be true. It has to be another hoax. My fingers nimbly bring up Robin Williams on my iphone. Sure enough, for... Continue Reading →

A letter to my mother

Thanksgiving is a great time to be reminded of the things that we're most grateful for...our homes, pets, families, friends, jobs -- so much to be thankful for in this complicated, wide world. It's not without those greats in our... Continue Reading →

Stone cold sober me

Get comfortable and grab a drink. This is going to take a while. Alright. It's time. Time for the return of this blog and a reason as to why it went dead to begin with. Well, not a 'cardiac arrest,... Continue Reading →

The return of the living.

It's been almost 2 months and not a paragraph, song, aside, or joke...not even one bloody peep. I didn't mean to be away for so long. Oh, how I've missed the meditative click-click of the keys. So, while I'd like... Continue Reading →


Hand written words are wild and unpredictable. They flow across untouched plains striking like brilliant lighting across a jet sky. Unlike their crisp, typed brothers, these letters show their true feelings. Smudged and broken, they drift like true art; their... Continue Reading →

An open letter to Iggy (Lago’s one and only Puertorab)

Our Dearest Iggy, I think that it's more than mere coincidence that you recently discovered my humble little blog. When the words first hit your ears that I had this little bit of the interwebs, you laughed. Sure, I got... Continue Reading →

We made it out to the other side.

This blog (as many of you have already experienced) doesn't really have a theme, per se. I write concerning what's usually on my mind. I type to relieve stress, help with my anxiety...I write because I can. There are all... Continue Reading →

One cigarette

I've been a bad bad girl....... So goes one of my favorite songs from Fiona Apple. She's a siren and got me through so many trying times in high school (not to mention hers was the first CD that I... Continue Reading →

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