The fairness and insensitivity of this feels reassuring, like weather or death. Something I cannot change. Something that does not care about me.
I cried last night. Everyone did. Three a.m. and drunk, overcaffeinated.
These millions are saving civilization, constantly and everywhere, because they are civilization.
Will Montei made me feel infinitely better about moving to college and leaving everyone behind, simply because no matter how sad and alone I felt, at least I wasn’t him.
I recently discovered the healthy, frugal, “have my shit together” magic known as a crockpot, specifically, a brown-and-tan, floral relic from my parents’ wedding that in a roundabout Oedipal way, led to the traumatization of my penis.
In urban, educated America, masculinity is fashionable only with a veneer of irony.