To get from a pile of ideas to one essay, I ask myself three questions: What is this essay about? What’s it really about? What is it really, really about?
I need the ocean to quiet my thoughts, the surfers to remind me I’m a person, the Taco Bell as a place where I become solid again.
The Lexapro were small and white; the generic was free under my insurance. More expensive were the plants.
The grounding I felt in organized religion was substantial: the loss, acutely painful. I found temporary relief in all the ways nature found me wherever I lived.