Rambling, racing self-realizations: I wish I could believe that my parents could love me no matter what. I’m afraid they’ll reject me the moment I stop giving them reason to love me. I think that’s part of why I’m so afraid of failure – I mean, I’ve hit close to rock bottom – it’s not how […]
After a fortnight in Paris: Paris was racist. (It was also pretty, but I don’t want to talk about that. I’ll go back when I can speak enough French to bite back.) Dream revised: Spain.