We don’t crave the things we’re close to, even if they’ve shaped us into who we are.
The taste of silence and salt heavy on my tongue.
oh, how my little joys have saved me
I Can’t Go Home, So I Go to the Indian Grocery
‘Persona 5 Royal’ and the Case for Suffering
Matthew Shepard Bought an Engagement Ring
The Transportive Power of ‘The Phantom Tollbooth’
How I Became a Scholar of Black Girl Fantasy
My Father, Montaigne, and the Art of Living
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