At the end of every semester, like clockwork I suppose, it happens. Amidst the speeches, the tasseling (oh, the TASSELING!), the pomp and the circumstance. Amidst the youthful expectancy, the Quixotic hubris, and the endless marimba ring screeching disturbingly from…
Flesh is the new Word.
Over the course of my quickly fading 20s I’ve discovered a few truths about existence: 1) My crutch like belief-as a poorly complected 17 year old-that my skin would finally even out in my late twenties was, disappointingly, misplaced. (Also, is there…