I try to live in a perpetual state of “Thank god I’m not fucking alone” because the alternative—while perhaps neater on the surface—is too difficult to bear.
It’s inarguable that Kanye West is the zeitgeist—but that fact feels cloying now, where it once felt like a thrill.
I’ve taught myself to ward off chaos with inflexible beliefs, following a path so narrow that even the unexpected joys of life have trouble getting in.
The hardest part of grieving is having nothing to say.
Yes, I grew up dreaming about this career path…but fashion is fantastical when you’re 13—the reality is less idyllic.
Where are models of the “neither here nor there” weight class?
For some reason vulnerability has scared me a bit more over the last year… Perhaps, I thought, it would be best to stop spilling my guts on the Internet.
Adam Driver’s marriage. Because I am still chomping at the bit.
I told myself I’d be a better person after my Dad died. This is what happened instead.