Indulging & Impermanence

  A self-inulgent sorrow selfie. Embarrassing but true* I used to wrap myself up in nostalgia. Not happy nostalgia, like “Remember when we all wore acid-washed jeans,” but more like… hm, deep grey clouds of melancholy nostalgia. I was secretly proud of my ability to nurse a bittersweet memory. I made regret an art form,Continue reading “Indulging & Impermanence”