A sharp reflection on what happens when you stop initiating and realize some friendships were sustained entirely by your effort.
Being the funny one sounds glamorous until you realize you’re basically the emotional janitor of every room. Anita finally admits that behind the punchlines is a tired human holding it…
An unhinged meditation on ice crunching, sensory rage, and why that tiny, echoing sound turns me feral. A plea for silence, manners, and my last remaining nerve.
A bitchy love letter to evolution: ditching the tired word “gay,” reclaiming Two-Spirit power, dragging anti-intellectual “anti-woke” nonsense, and reminding us we were born this way. The backlash is temporary.…