let's talk about evil beauty today!

boo america

Lately, I’ve been thinking about the floor of violence, and what it means to grieve for the present as much as the future, and certainly as much as the past. And endless grief, an immortal one we grow into as much as we grow up at all. There’s a line of poetry I have in my snippets folder: One cannot be highly sensitive to the world without being sadden…

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