Emily McCombs

...[B]eing among the dead rightsizes my problems, makes me feel small like staring at the ocean. After all, we are all being carried along toward the same inevitable fate as the men and women whose headstones I pass on my daily strolls. The best we can hope for is that someday someone will stop to calculate our ages and wonder about our lives after we’re gone.

Snickering at Anthony Weiner masks the brutal and difficult reality of coping with sexual addiction.

It’s summer, and if there’s one thing we can be sure of, it’s that you’re disgusting. You think you can just stuff any old body into a bathing suit? You need a special license for that. Nobody on the Internet even wants to masturbate to you!