This feels weird to write, but I have been grieving the future that won’t be: a smart, strong, beautiful (I am unapologetically male in this regard) president with positive energy, but fierce nonetheless, much in the same way I have grieved the death of loved ones.

I hate this dystopian timeline.

Sublime’s “Ebin” has taken on a new meaning and significance in the last couple of weeks

At some point, metaphors and analogies fail, but nonetheless, in this metaphorical view of the US as an addict (to whatever: grievance, money, hate, disinformation), what will our “rock bottom” be before we realize we’re in trouble?

I really didn’t think we could go lower than trump, round one…