How To Deal With A Rat In Your Apartment
Call your landlord. He will tell you that he will drop by two days away from this date with bait and traps. Luckily, you will have lost your sanity by then.
Call your landlord. He will tell you that he will drop by two days away from this date with bait and traps. Luckily, you will have lost your sanity by then.
We want love because we want to be understood, because we have been misunderstood for so long and we are so tired of being the only ones to understand ourselves.
When freelancing, you are often faced with the dilemma of having to do something that you don’t want to do, nothing morally opposing, but something that makes you feel like you need to compromise your truest self and you are forced to come out of your comfort-zone.
When I first moved to New York a few months ago, I lost my metro card that was meant to last me a month.
This is not about sex; this is about you, it is the resentment you feel toward yourself, like a despicable cancer spreading through your body, like a disease that must now be put to its death.
All conversations with your father a monosyllabic; there are not enough words for what your mother has to tell you. She is fourteen again, a gossiping teen. No, she is just lonely.
Like an apology that is extended, I say, “You can call me Taznim; it’s easier to pronounce. You can call me anything that is easy for you.”
Never have I met a woman who has not been in the highest of spirits after masturbating.
We love ourselves unconditionally, and for this we loathe ourselves.
It began at thirteen, breakfasts hidden in desk drawers, flushed down the toilet, and, when the toilet had backed up, its…