Tag Archives: brazil

Can’t Stop This Thing We Started

Ziggy Ferias, the love of my life, the man I couldn’t live without, fidgeted for a moment with the laces of his high tops and then he let me have it. The truth. “You know I’m terrible at being direct sometimes. Sometimes it’s because feeling my way through things that could have multiple directions is […]

The Sound of Your Voice

Ziggy was somewhat dressed down. He was wearing a plain denim jacket over a baby blue tank top and artfully distressed jeans. I couldn’t really make out his face what with him backlit by the sun, which meant he was wearing very little or no eyeliner.

Cold Turkey

I think it was after I fell asleep during drum rehearsal that me and Flip and Carynne re-evaluated our strategy for the remaining scant Vitamin F supply we had. I seem to recall being in a van when we had this conversation. It’s difficult for me to remember certain details, for the obvious reason my […]

Couple Days Off

I’m not going to lie. Cyclobenzaprine withdrawal sucked. And from what I hear, for me it sucked particularly. By nightfall every muscle in my body hurt. Have you ever had one of those laughing fits where you laugh so hard and so long that your ribs and stomach hurt like hell? Now imagine that without […]

Running on Empty

What the hell are emotions, anyway?

House of Pain

(Happy New Year, everyone! Here’s to a better 2018, eh? -ctan) — Room service brought us food. Since we were in a fancy suite we had an actual dining table made of some fancy wood. I don’t remember what I ate, but it was very grounding. The headache in my ears intensified, though–I could feel […]

Here Comes the Rain Again

That afternoon we had the worst sex ever. Okay, no, that’s an exaggeration. The worst sex is the sex that damages your relationship. This wasn’t that bad, but it was physically stressful, which made it emotionally stressful in a way I didn’t expect. I can’t even tell you whose idea it was. I think we […]

You’re My Best Friend

The landing in Sao Paulo was rough. The grab-your-armrests-and-grit-your-teeth kind of rough. But we and the plane survived. “No plane crash metaphors in your next song,” Bart muttered as we taxied.