On Groundhog Day, I read that the movie, Groundhog Day, is considered a Buddhist meditation. My brother talked about it in the weeks before he died. He liked watching it, and liked comparing himself to the hero. He’d text me: Oh, shit, another morning, and I’m still dying. Nothing has changed, I’m just waiting to die.
Read the whole essay at The Nervous Breakdown
Published by Lillian Ann Slugocki
Lillian Ann Slugocki is Project Editor for Angels Flight * literary west, nominated twice for Best of the Web, a Pushcart Prize, and winner of the Gigantic Sequins prize for fiction. She's been published by CCM, Seal Press, Cleis Press, Heinemann Press, Spuyten Duyvil Press, as well as Vol 1: Brooklyn, Bloom/The Millions,Salon, Entropy, The The Daily Beast, The Nervous Breakdown, Hypertext Magazine, The Doctor T.J. Eckleburg Review, The Manifest-Station, The Forge Literary Magazine, BUST Magazine, Angels Flight * literary west, and others. Her latest book: How to Travel with Your Demons is published by Spuyten Duyvil Press, 2015. She founded BEDLAM: New Work by Women Writers, a reading series @KGB Bar. MA from NYU. @laslugocki
View all posts by Lillian Ann Slugocki
Lillian Ann Slugocki 