It's Gilda, Not Gilda

love

  • i’m sorry.

    So, with the good news, I write to you the journey to get here: Three weeks passed and I underwent the biopsy. You never remember your dreams in a drug induced sleep, but that day, I dreamt that I was… Continue reading

  • The Girl

    Everyone knows Gilda, but do they KNOW me? I’m eccentric, they say. I am an extrovert, they think. Confident and bold, they assume. I was thinking of myself as a teenager. I was so wise, beyond my years. I was… Continue reading

  • I, Gilda

    Is this real?  Did I remember that wrong? Is it me? Did I misunderstand? Am I too sensitive?  Oblivious? Possibly annoying? Did I misinterpret that eye roll?  Did they sigh with frustration, or with relief?  Am I not faceted enough… Continue reading