Well, it’s over. Nine handwritten black journals and 251 numbered posts later, the story that I envisioned for Why It Matters has been told.
Hardee’s loved me, and I don’t know why. Sure I worked hard, but I fucked off hard, too — especially if Matt and I were working together. He would climb up on […]
At age fifteen I should not have been trusted with something as dangerous as a fork, yet the South Carolina Department of Motor Vehicles issued me a driver license. All it took […]
My goal as a kid was to get my hands on as much music as possible. I recorded The King Biscuit Flower Hour whenever I found it on the FM dial. When […]
Savannah College of Art and Design, 1987: My final project for drawing class is four feet by ten feet on board, a beast of a thing. I get to class very early […]
“Your tennis shoes are good enough. It’s just little league,” my father said. “It’s Pony league, and it says I have to have spikes.” I handed him the registration form and equipment […]
I am unsettled. Sitting again in this restaurant, but there are no corner tables to be found. A few months ago I would have stood distraught in the center of the dining […]