A Thin Path Through the Woods
What a strange feeling, to re-remember. How has this recollection been altered by time? What other pieces of it have I forgotten?
What a strange feeling, to re-remember. How has this recollection been altered by time? What other pieces of it have I forgotten?
Frankly, the idea of giving a team of strangers editing control over my inevitable mistakes and embarrassing moments before broadcasting them on a national stage is terrifying.
Spice means flavor. It means sensation. It means reaction.
It feels wrong to type into the chat box, “please add more hopeful language into this article.”
Why do just a phone call when you can do a call while descending into skull caverns with an inventory full of cheese and bombs?
In other words, did humanity deserve it?
American society has a contradictory relationship with sexuality, one that manages to be simultaneously horny and prudish.
When we’re sitting all in one room, it’s like we’ve never been apart.
“Wow, you’re so lucky. You get to stay up late on your birthday!”
I’m keeping you guessing—which means I’m cool.