One day I hope to find my person. Lucy is my person, more than anyone, and it’s sad that she is most often far away.
I am trying to figure out what excites me about art, what excites me about the work that my peers are creating. Something that somehow fights against pretentiousness but doesn’t succumb to a laziness.
I wanted to be someone else. “I have no idea what I am doing with my life any more,” I thought, under the weight of a stranger.
Adam liked to text me when he was bored and horny.