The diseased world turned, and we were getting on with life. But then the dreams started.
I exclusively wore yellow shirts between the ages of 15 and 27. It was a desperate adolescent affectation, a hail-mary pass attempt at a personality, that simply continued way, way too long due to depression and stubbornness. Despite that, there are bright spots. Many friends who I made in that era fondly associate me withContinue reading “Our Plague Year: Spots of color”
I’m not afraid. Everyone around me is afraid, and I’m not, and I don’t know why.