{superlefty}

Letter from Bend, OR

Loss, fear, and IPA.

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Talking to Myself and Other Entities of Questionable Reality

Often, when I need a little extra encouragement, I’ll mutter under my breath to myself, or to inanimate objects or entities. When I need to not vomit despite a horrific hangover, I’ll mutter, “Steady, Weinstein.” When I need to not freak out even if things appear to have taken a turn for the worse I’ll […]

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