It’s funny how the smallest things signal a shift. Lartia burrowing beneath blankets. A breeze creeping through the windows before sunrise because we haven’t taken the air conditioner out yet. The way we’ve both started talking about “the apartment” like it’s something we’re building, not just living in.
 Read MoreLong misunderstood, even by his biggest fans, Lost Highway isn’t as impenetrable as it seems. This is not a typical film review. It’s a reflection on how we learn to watch—and feel—a film built like a feedback loop of dread, guilt, and denial.
 Read MoreI didn’t expect London to feel familiar. But I suppose love has a way of softening even the sharpest new corners.
 Read MoreI’ve been doing this same walk for years. Or at least it feels like it. I have the entire route down to a science. I know exactly how long it takes to complete. Two hours and twenty-five minutes. No more, no less. If I deviate from this, I won’t know who I am.
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