My latest editorial for The Miami Student, which you can find here.
On my worst days, I dig deep into the folds of insecurity, devour some cut-to-the-bone poetry from Poe and ache along to whatever melancholy tune anchors the headphones to my ears. Oh and pizza. Shakespeare said it’s the comfort food of the jesters. Don’t Google that.
Music and writing are usually good outlets, but echoing in the distance remains that throbbing pingback of negativity you’re unwilling to face. You know the familiar potholes in the day’s events: misjudgments, mistakes, wrong things said, regrets, whatever.