
StraightAhead
Aug 51 min read
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My brain is “cooked,” I joke because the truth is hard to say. Three hundred tabs behind my eyes, and none of them will go away. I know the trends before they break, the songs, the sounds, the dance, the face. I wear them like a borrowed coat that fits me in the wrong kind of place. Everyone’s highlight reel looks bright. Mine’s the behind-the-scenes. But no one posts the 2 a.m. thoughts, or what “I’m fine” really means. So here’s the thing I’m learning slow: I’m not a trend,
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