Loneliness, Aging, and Cryptids: A Typical Spring
I’m afraid of aging, but I’m determined to enjoy it as it comes, if I can just figure out how.
I’m afraid of aging, but I’m determined to enjoy it as it comes, if I can just figure out how.
Three days after the 2024 spring equinox, I shoveled snow off of my sidewalks.
Anger belongs to the relationships you care about, to the people you want to love and by whom you wish to be loved in return.
I was preparing for my career in professional soccer, where I would soon have enough money to buy all the windows one could ever need.
One report said, “Pedestrian vs. car, with significant damage to car.”
There are two types of people who rub me the wrong way: people who can’t take a hint, and people who talk to hear their own voice. Thomas Antonio Inglewood was both.
Those words came to me in what felt like divine inspiration.
I have never felt like the grief I have is deserved.
“An hour and forty-two minutes!” I would think, fist-pumping at the director’s restraint.
The new people I met starting junior year never knew me as Purun but as Parker.