is to pass out and stay passed out for a while, until the weather patterns have changed.
蕭
耀
倫
耀
倫
a
r
o
6e
d
g
2 l
p
a
n
r
o
6e
d
g
2 l
p
a
n
is to pass out and stay passed out for a while, until the weather patterns have changed.
always sad in its marking of the passage of time and the loss of all things, including those that are most precious.
Change is one of my least favorite things, all these years later, as it turns out—a sharp departure from the way that I felt as a young person.
§ As you get older, the ghosts become more real than anything else.
§ Under the leaves, soil. Under the soil, stone. Under the stone, souls.
§ Radically empowering individuals in society may be the worst mistake we ever made.
§ Want to be a radical? Refuse to suffer. Then, wait for the assault.
§ Goodbye 2017, part two. (The real part.)
§ Sometimes you find home where you’ve never been—and you dwell where you aren’t.
§ The self can’t play Atlas for postmodernity because science is now supernatural.
§ Rehab is universal. So is history.
§ Identity, transcendence, and tactics.
§ Untitled. (a.k.a. Pretty faces, new old photos.)