If we don’t appreciate this totally fantastic human diversity, these strange unexplored corners, they don’t exist for us, our worlds are smaller, and we are less for it. And then, one day, they’re gone.
The blindfolds are a bit disorienting—almost claustrophobic—at first.
Dreams are receding from my memory, fast, into the blackness, pulled away the way waves are. Can’t make sense of them. There are just snippets, flashes: fur…claws…a sense of dread. I rise and begin gearing up.
The alone, the once-loved, the tired of it all. This one’s for you.
it truly pains me to imagine Cuba as just another country
“She’s got the ultimate power,” Jaquan said.
…there is one place in this country—indeed in this (supposedly progressive) city—that is—even in this day and age—pretty much exclusively for white people. And I’m not talking about the City Council
Like many philosophically minded people before me, I’ve long been an ingrate.
I started going to these illegal all-night parties when I was fourteen, in 1992, and for three years they were all my friends and I lived for. When I meet fourteen-year-olds now, this fact shocks me. We were children.
We followed him. Lucy into the wardrobe, we felt our way in.
Isn’t this project of choosing how to be, and what to be, from this great floating mass of mediated choices, these isles of options, the fundamental project of our times?
I live here on the land that was once theirs, and which was slowly swindled and stolen away from them, along with their way of life, and I don’t care.
As everybody-who’s-anybody knows, dressing up is super fun and these people came to party. Basically what they do is wander around looking awesome and complimenting each other, basking in all the love. It’s rad.