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some notes on anxious attachment through the lens of 90’s radio hits

hello, beloved blog readers. 2023 has been a whirlwind so far and it’s only just begun, only 23 days in. multiple things have happened that have triggered my anxious attachment and god damn it’s not even the death anniversary of my BFF (jan 29, 2005–it’ll be 18 years soon, holy shit) yet. this year started…

how i stopped hating walt whitman

A drunk, sweaty man crashed my 13th birthday party, wearing a crooked, curly wig. “I’m Valter Vitman. I’m Walt Whitman’s cousin,” he bellowed. I knew him, he wasn’t Valt-freakin’-anybody. He was my neighbor Wilbur (name changed to protect the freaky), a grown man going to great lengths to make fun of a child. Maybe if…

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