On Catholicism

I've been writing about God. And putting together what I want my collection to look like. And not thinking about getting the damn thing published, which I should be doing. At least a little bit of concern could be handed out for this area of my life. Instead I studied Spanish for three weeks and wrote for fun. I wrote when I wanted to and never pushed myself to produce anything. So I wrote about God and how children think about God and what misunderstandings can be created through the Catholic church's form of education. It's all rather disturbing and sinister. I'm creeped out (in a useful way) by the things I can remember from that period of my life. The very short portion of my life where I wore a uniform and did dance gymnastics in the afternoon.

to be continued...

Leather

I once had a boyfriend who thought I would look great in leather. He was into bondage, wanted a motorcycle – and me on the back. Tall, gangly, wore his pants too high. He always smelled the same from sweated chocolate powdered protein. He wanted to be a lot of different people. I never wore leather. I found it felt too familiar, the dead, beaten flesh. Not until I was sure I had stopped loving him, maybe a few months before, did I take out a pair of leather pants from my mother’s closet, from when she was young and punk and hip, and slip them over my thighs. I looked in the mirror then pulled them off, placing them neatly beneath our bed for later.