You find the aloneness interesting. You watch the sensation curiously, noticing that familiar dull ache burrowing somewhere deep in your stomach again, simmering underneath the heartburn from all that soda you’ve been drinking. Omnipresent. The aloneness stays when nothing else does. In the morning, it’s there. It comes with you…

Oh, the specificity of compatibility. The idea of personality eludes me lately, the harder I try to put my finger on it, and just when I think I’ve gotten it, the further it slips out of grasp. Aren’t we constantly absorbing the qualities of those around us and molding new…

When you’re 16 and insecure, good hair is a perfectly adequate substitute for a personality. Do you have the cool haircut, the kind that proves your membership in whichever subculture happens to be reigning the day? Or are you a normie, a muggle, a styleless loser with no taste? When…

2018, you can suck it. You were a trash fire of a year; a steaming pile of dog shit on a muggy summer day. You were Jabba the Hutt’s breath. You were the goo on that melty Tilda Swinton witch in the Suspiria remake. …

There’s an episode of How I Met Your Mother in which the main character, Ted, brings the girl he’s dating to dinner with his friends. They all hate her, and he can’t fathom why — until they “spoil” her for him by alerting him to some annoying thing she does…

I hate the summer. Every time I wake up to the summer sun blasting its oppressive rays into my bedroom, again, a little part of me shrivels up into a ball. Go back to bed, that part of me whispers; try waking up again tomorrow. No need to face the…