Marx
Like always, my foot was the only thing that fell asleep last night.
Like always, my foot was the only thing that fell asleep last night.
My grandmother called me the other day asking if I wanted any weed, because the man across the hall is selling it and she thought it was an excellent deal.
The definition of perspective is that moment after a seven-year-old dying of cancer asks if you're ok.
I had a dead squirrel in one hand, a screaming child in the other, soon replaced with cake, and then I realized my life had taken an odd turn.
I asked my 93 year old Grandmother, who I adore, what she thought life was all about and she replied, "I don't think about those type of things."
I was raped, molested, abused, lost, shot, and abandoned, but my biggest fear is taxidermy.
I walked away from the most attractive girl I have ever seen mid conversation only to find my wife had been sleeping with her boss for several months.
When I was a teen I wished that I would get hit on a lot, but now that I'm in my late twenties I wish I could go to the grocery store or pump gas without getting hit on.
We were going to share our lives together until he changed his mind the day before, and now he wants me to send him updates of our hedgehog's life, but not mine.
My dad's last note to me was "Always hear the music in your life."
That's when I looked down and realized my fake nail had somehow caught fire, and no one was around to witness it but my fish.
His family watched in morbid silence while seven perplexed fiancees wept by his graveside.
The day I dropped out of high school, botched my entrance into Harvard, and set out on my journey across the country on foot was the day I realized I would come back for you, and only you.
I found out today that the notebook with three chapters of my eleven chapter story and the entire outline of the book was thrown out a week ago.
Normal has been tilted and is now my new normal ever since my husband committed suicide.
I've garnered two Emmy Awards plus two Associated Press awards and I'll always be known as the dude who hit the "perfect showcase bid" on The Price Is Right.
When the polygraph ended, he looked up and smiled at me saying, "I'll give you this: I've been doing this a long time and you are the most nervous person I've ever met."
She saw the horror in his eyes as the dentist realized he had just cemented both his thumbs to her lower bridgework.
A barren womb may destroy more than just the dreams of a life that never will be.
I told the eighty-something-year-old man to "Have a nice day", and he told me to "Have a nice life."
As a child I wrote in my journal how much I hated my mother and wished I would die, but as an adult, when she told me she had read my childhood journal, I hated myself for writing such horrible things.
After three years of Alzheimer's ravaging his mind, he looked at me, his 18 year old granddaughter, and asked, "Are you mad at me mommy?"
When my sister was too young to care about floaties, I saved her because my adulterous father was too busy with his adulterous wife to notice her drowning.
While driving home and contemplating what my father said to me, I realized how terrified I am by the idea of doing anything for 30 years.
In January we got married, in February we bought a house, in March we took in a 14-year-old boy, and in May I'll turn 22.
The first day I walked into six grade was the last day I was optimistic.
At approximately 1:30 pm on Friday February 1, 2008, I realized that when you get to college they expect you to wear watches.
Over the last month, the cold reality of life has struck since one uncle died, another uncle had a stroke, my mother found out she has breast cancer and my grandmother is on her way to an assisted living facility.
I saw my grandmother's death, the grandmother I had lived with until the seventh grade, as merely an opportunity to miss school.
My quality of life is inversely proportional to the number of keys on my keyring.
My life is on the cusp of requiring more than one sentence.
As I sit here, barely listening to a lecture about divesting interests in a mature market, I am suddenly struck with the realization that I don't belong here.
It's never like the movies...we pulled the plug and he took two hours to die.
I think my mid-life crisis has arrived earlier than expected.
Today in my embalming lab we sliced, injected, and sutured a woman who is my thriving grandmother's senior by only six days.
I have experienced a bizarre feeling monday morning when I realized I couldn't wait to get to the office, even though I had a nice weekend with my friends.
It seemed quite fitting that he lived on a dead-end street.
Much like the song written by "Garbage," I am always happy when it rains.
The one thing I don't like about being an adult is the people always want to have serious, meaningful conversations.
I met the love of my life not on the subway or in a bar, but in my bowling class.
I stopped being depressed when I saw a snippet of the Jerry Springer episode entitled "It all ends with a pig", and I knew that my life wasnt that bad.
From waitress to dental assistant to deckhand to electronics tech to retirement has been a real trip!
She too had been sexually assaulted by a five year older brother at the age of nine, and suddenly, I had found a sister in life.
If I would have known inviting you into my bedroom would make you turn the invitations to the rest of my rooms down, I wouldn't have been so hospitable.
I'm turning sixteen in a few months but I feel like I'm the only person who misses being in the backseat; knowing that in a few years I'll have to make all the decisions in life.
My life has been a never-ending series of bad haircuts and parking tickets.
I acknowledged the fact that I have no life when the first thing I do every morning is check onesentence.org.
My freshmen year of college isn't even over yet and I'm already wishing I could start it over again.
The bottom of the coffee cup broke away like a Dutch dike with no little finger to slow the flow.
I love my cars so much I run them into other objects so I never have to share.
My good male friend always points out girls that he finds attractive-most of whom I completely disagree with-but then I wonder why he doesn't think I'm pretty.
Maybe I was wrong, but your "I love you" felt more heartfelt when you thought I was addicted.
A psychiatrist myself, I don't know why my identical twin sister, a poet, has spent a lifetime battling schizophrenia or why I escaped the same fate, but I know this: when I look in the mirror I still see her face.
I tried to sum up my life story into one fantastic sentence, but all I could think of was "shit happens."
I stood under the stars as a man, and sang a requiem for the boy I had been.
Last night, on our second date, I came to the conclusion that you're the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.
The work week seems to be a repeating blip that echoes a nasty scratch on the record of life.
I once thought that not growing up sick would make me a better person, but then I learned that the opposite was true.
While I was at work making money for her, she was with some other guy.
The car was packed and loaded, and with tears in my eyes I hugged my son and said goodbye.
It wasn't until the next day that they found out they had both called me at the same time and that, if they hadn't, none of us would have been alive to realize it.
I should be sleeping, but I keep thinkig about all of the things I need to do, should have done, and about how I don't want to screw everything up.
I should know better than to drink too much coffee and then contemplate what happens after death.
He asked me if I would marry him, and it was then, the second I said yes, I knew that he was not the love of my life.
This month began blackly with a death and ended radiantly with a marriage.