Author Archives: Jonathan Berger

In my fantasy relationship with you we are chaste and perfect not so unlike the reality of our situation where we speak sporadically politely with friendly overtones but none of the intensity that exists in imagination. In my fantasy relationship … Continue reading →

Don’t you ever get tired of yourself and your self-involved bullshit the way the rest of us do? Really, how often can you go on about the same three subjects you, yourself and you which, when going from first to … Continue reading →

I am not as good at things as I would like to be. I am not as good at things as you deserve. I am striving to improve at doing things: at being kinder and doing dishes and sewing sutures … Continue reading →

The season, the weather, the company, the atmosphere and food has all been wonderful today. I’ve had a time and a holiday and enjoyed myself immensely and that gasping hole in the middle did not stop the joy – not … Continue reading →

When he told me his truth, I was quiet, then said, “I’m just glad there’s a comedy on tonight.” I think back on that response with some sense of shame. His unburdening oughtn’t be anything I needed to be lightened … Continue reading →

“Wait, wait, hold up,” my therapist said. “Could you repeat that?” I did. He responded slowly. “We’ve been together for how many years, and this hasn’t come up before?” “Who my parents fuck isn’t something I consider very much at … Continue reading →

Times are changing, that’s for sure, and no one’s sure, in time’s midst, if it’s for good or ill but on that topic everyone has an opinion or three. Clearly this is a time for cautious hysteria, and ridiculous calculations. … Continue reading →

The day after I declared myself witch the girl of my dreams invited me to lunch (it was vegan cuisine, so there were limits on my powers). The Great Bubba Mufungi once told me that his people would do anything … Continue reading →

I keep saying the same thing with numbing redundancy because dull as it sounds this truth remains evident. There are nobody’s eyes I want upon me so much as yours but the way you look at me is ever so … Continue reading →

What is this thing called morning? It seems to have escaped you completely though nauseous flashes toilet rushes and a pulsing eyelid are all recent memories. You mutter yourself awake today finally. The scrawled notes on last night’s napkin tatters … Continue reading →