Why does media consumption feel like serendipitous psychosis like the time I watched past lives on the plane to Europe and thought this Russian man I met in Portugal for a few days was going to be my husband
I accidentally put my AirPods in the wash so now I go back and forth between imagining myself listening to music in a kitschy vintage muffled way or through the lens of 2070 earth under water kind of way
Third week with a cart, and Iโm starting to understand Kennedy Davenports story of being gutted and, instead of dying, crystallizing into some kind of glamazon thing