I pull a greasy strand of hair loose from my bun and twirl it around my finger. With every twist, I feel the sting of the cuticle I picked bloody earlier. I swipe up, closing the app, and then open it again. Nothing. The meme is funny, I think. I want to write again, to… Continue reading Baby Games.
Author: thepathtoworthy
News!
Hi! I am doing a thing that really scares me. I am trying out Substack for a minute. I'm not done here, I don't think. Not yet. But I'm trying a new format. Will you check me out there? Pleaseeeeee? https://thepathtoworthy.substack.com/?utm_campaign=unknown&utm_medium=web Just for a moment. Let's do this scary thing together. There's no barrier to… Continue reading News!
Some kind of magic.
I had the opportunity to visit Sequoia National Park, Kings Canyon National Park, and Yosemite National Park this past week. I'm not sure if opportunity is the correct word here. Perhaps privilege is better. Or honor. Or delight. It was absolutely a thing of magic. I’ve been really caught up in everything lately. I’ve been… Continue reading Some kind of magic.
Treacherous Honesty.
This morning, I was chatting with my cousin, and I shared that I’m deeply obsessed with and captivated by the way that moisture sits on grass, flowers and leaves. I acknowledged the weirdness of this sentiment, and he responded by telling me that he is obsessed by the way bodies of water ripple (he’s on… Continue reading Treacherous Honesty.
I occasionally run…
Sus will occasionally mention that I ran cross country when I was in middle or maybe, high school. When she says this, I remember the dank smell of wet grass and sweat. I think of bumpy school bus rides and lukewarm, mushy orange slices. I recall pink cheeks and chafed thighs and mostly feeling like… Continue reading I occasionally run…
The Taper.
Nearly two weeks ago I began tapering for a big race. I’ve tapered for races before, though none that I’ve prepared for as thoroughly and none this significant. If you don’t know what a taper is, it is when you reduce your intensity and volume prior to a race. Stated basically, you run less and… Continue reading The Taper.
Big dreams. Dream big.
I started to write something very specific for this week. I was going to write a little more about grief. And then, I was going to write about some of the bat sh*t stuff that’s been going on around these parts. And then, yesterday happened. And it was so magical that I don’t want to… Continue reading Big dreams. Dream big.
Living for Dying for Sex.
Have you watched ‘Dying for Sex’ yet? No? Why? Why have you not watched it? I’ve pondered why people wouldn’t like the show. I’ve mostly done this because I want so desperately to refer it to literally everyone and anyone that I come into contact with- on a daily basis. I want to scream from… Continue reading Living for Dying for Sex.
The After-Middle.
It’s no surprise that I’m an anxious adult because anyone who knows me well knows that I started out as an anxious kid. Not the kind of anxiety that stopped me from doing things or participating in life. Not debilitating anxiety. Just the kind of anxiety that led to tears and reservation, hand wringing and… Continue reading The After-Middle.
Rage Dancer.
When I close my eyes lately, I find myself imagining the shapes my rage has taken inside of me. Sometimes it’s a small, burning ember, like the last remnants of a stick of incense or a campfire long after everyone has retired to their tents. Then, other times, it’s a fiery ball- bright red and… Continue reading Rage Dancer.
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