Long and linear, you plug into the energy source. Hollow and tubular, stretching out, reaching for the sofa. Gently gliding back and forth, as your fat wheels are rolling. Spinning and spinning, your strong brush gently rolls the pinned fibers as I follow. Pushing you further and further until the chore is done. I wrap you up, and thank you for your service. Then, put you away for another day. Your sliver, your crescent,.

A blog written from the perspective of a queer feminist Christian homeschooler. Who Is That Feminist Homeschooler? Christianity, Depression, and The Afterlife. These are slightly edited ramblings of mine when I was in a really bad state of depression late last night. A little about depression, a little about the afterlife. The very belief system I want to leave still holds me captive.

Invisible tendrils of magic grabbed him, and his feet were suddenly unable to touch the ground. He was floating, but not of his own will. She said, giving a smile, How it feels to not be in control. He said, looking rather silly trying to point his finger at her. No You have controlled me for so long, She said, You can last a while.