Art as Escapism

I can hear the protests from my window. There are protests everyday. And whenever I open my mouth a little glob of despair comes tumbling out. Things are scary. Reality feels fictitious, joke-like, like aliens are creating some sad holographic reality where everything’s gone wrong. (What a disorienting liberal echo chamber) Social progress works in … More Art as Escapism


Peace-ing out. For now. Not a fan of processing things publicly, but I’ll see you soon, WordPress.