Well, I'm here.
Doing the thing I do best: procrastinate, process my less important thoughts by blogging instead of doing the things I actually have to. There's this essay by Foucault about sexual repression that I'm supposed to close read but close reading normal texts is already so hard..... we're out here asked to do it with theory.... I think I've already given up. I don't exactly owe this blog an update about my life because - it's me, only I read this, I know what's going on. What I do owe myself is an appraisal of the years past. What I think now about everything I've went through, something a bit more meaningful, more insightful. So, I'll start there. I've had intrusive thoughts since I can remember. Since my mom started comparing me to how * neat * or * well-behaved * my cousins were or whatever. Joke's on you, mom. I'm the only one out of all of them who got it into a local university, became a research scholar and peer coach there, and is...