07.01.24

This Is Not the Content Trough

This past winter saw me perfecting my very own soup recipes and man can I dice onions and bell peppers like a samurai. My new neighbor sings Celine Dion songs to his dog. The pothole in my parking lot has gotten so deep it coughs lava. With no appetite left for a social media trough of staged interactions, identity attachments, the only hamstring stretch you need to change your life forever, and the wagging fingers of too-certain truth tellers, life's authenticities feel more interesting to me than ever.

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