Autumn used to feel like an open door. Now it just feels like a closing window.
It’s probably because you’re an asshole. But why not obsess over it anyway?
At this point, it’s replaced supercalifragilisticexpialidocious as the word to say when you don’t know what the hell to do.
This post is about writing under a false name in an effort to tell a story more honestly, and with that in mind I’m hoping everyone appreciates how clever the title is.
In which I manage to discuss nostalgia while only making one pop culture reference.
The mind is like a roiling storm. Or something.
In which I write about not writing.
Some call it an “almost-relationship.” Some call it the new normal. I call bullshit.
Really, it’s one of those “you’ll know it when you see it” kind of things. But everyone likes reductionist internet lists!