1918 1 1
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The drive back to Sac does nothing to sober me up, either, and although Avaline and I are ready to hurl, she takes me to her afternoon support group, “Lean On Me: A Place for Manic-Depressive and Bipolar Sufferers to Come Together.”
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1918 8 5
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Kids are fascinated by me. Adults look the other way. Maybe it's my size. Or maybe it's the stories in the newspapers.
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1918 19 15
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“What does the future hold?”
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1918 2 2
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No one is a Puritan under all that powder!
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1918 3 3
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In another lifetime the loft had been a shoe factory and I joked how in the dark of night I could hear the ghosts of lost soles speaking in tongues. There was the rolling of eyes, and when I repeated the joke to my therapist, who was actually sitting acr
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1918 0 0
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My name is Sydnée Figge, and this is the beginning of my story.
I suppose it should be said that even though people call me Syd, I am not a man. People who can actually see me know that right away, and I’m not ashamed of that even though I’m a bit olde
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1918 3 0
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If I was a bum
I’d risk everything
for a drink or a smoke
I would beg and curse and steal
if I was a bum
If I was a bum
I would cuss out the Pope
I would not vote for anyone
because I would know truly
they’d be telling gross lies
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1917 9 8
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In the beginning the revolution was all motion and energy. When the President for Life resigned motion and energy disappeared with the sounds of clapping hands.
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1917 15 8
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Effluvium is such a lovely word, so hey surprise it covers rancid butter, vomit, fertile gingko fruit trekked in from the pavement.
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1917 17 4
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It was in the spring of 1958 when I first arrived in Kobe, Japan, traveling aboard a Norwegian merchant ship, looking to make movies on a limited budget. Superior quality cameras, lenses, and film were being produced in Japan at a fraction of the cost for similar products…
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1917 11 8
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In his head he thinks oh whatever when I wake this time I shall have a very fine discussion with Someone special, oh but finding meaning in anything nowadays that's Just too much rich flattery, isn't it, filthy mirror? Inside His head's…
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1917 11 8
|
I looked at her, shook my head and tried to smile. She smiled back, beaming a radiance that pushed away the chill.
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1917 1 0
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It was stubborn early winter, when everyone was cold but went outside anyways, rubbing red fingers and shuffling feet.
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1917 10 2
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Time
Holds
Ultimately
Nothing
Dear
Except
Reunion
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1917 17 10
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Every Thursday, around 11 am, right after the cemetery where I work receives the daily shipment of cremated remains to be interred, a frail nonagenarian steps out of the driver's seat of his Lincoln Continental and walks, unassisted, up a flight of twenty granite steps,…
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1916 18 12
|
Reality winks at us then scampers off
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1916 8 4
|
Fred's ruined face stared back at him from a fractured, mold-spotted mirror. The remains of breakfast pooled around his feet and a pair of lace panties clung to his shoe, glued there by God knew what. Bits of flesh were stuck between his yellow teeth, alo
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1916 20 12
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1916 7 6
|
in her silk sleeves is silence sheathed.
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1916 5 0
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He picked up the bottle of gin, looked at it.
"Not a lot left," he said.
"There's enough," she replied. She took the bottle and lifted it to her lips. "Are you ready?" she asked.
"For what?"
"You'll see."
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1916 1 1
|
After lunch it's vocal coaching: shrieking, screaming, crying Oh-my-God!-Oh-my-God!-Oh-my-God!, panting and face fanning. Next it's ‘situational training', where we pretend to be audience members on real talk shows and practice everything we've learned th
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1916 7 6
|
There’s not enough cigarette cloud to conceal her, malnourished and pale beneath blue and pink lights that summon 80s-era skate rinks. She saunters towards the center of the stage, asking her bored expression to convey detachment, while a DJ that fits the
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1915 10 5
|
Over our short, yet enduring relationship, I found that he was desperately trying to reconcile his ambitions with his situation. I left and he continued to be unhappy, trying to "fix" what he now realized had been broken all along. In the end, a span of a
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1915 17 14
|
Tan my hide. Feed me to rabid / macaques.
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1915 4 1
|
Steam rolls out of the bathroom as Mr. Larson opens the door with a white towel around his waist. Pepper strolls up to him and purrs as she rubs her long, gray tail against his tanned legs."Hey, girl.” He runs his coarse, scarred fingers through the cat's soft coat.…
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1915 11 6
|
He has stubby, rough little fingers. Good.
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1915 4 2
|
I want to break that mug. (Break him.)
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1915 13 10
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I will not tell you that your anger is wrong, child.
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1915 8 4
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A girl waiting at the door, heart in a Ziploc. An elderly woman stopping at the bank. A bear in a screaming contest with a troop of girl scouts.
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1915 0 0
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...It's my advice that this Fourth of July the Office of Homeland Security post the following instructions on your web site www.Ready.gov — people should act like my dog Lucy and just stay inside under the bed and tremble...
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