I first decided to smoke weed in the third grade. That is to say, the final straw that broke the authoritarian bind which prevented me from becoming a weedlover began with a simple English exam, where the teacher outrageously marked my spelling of ‘because’ as incorrect. I had opted for […]
An essay about my great-great-grandmother Katinka, the origins of Romania, abortion, Darwin, whiteness, the Nazis, and using philosophy as a way create identity.
My most ambitious writing project to date, which, if you read, you'll be rewarded with a gluten free cookie. Redeemable only if you can gain access to the tower I've barricaded myself in.