From the archive

You like the truth until it's about you

This blog has the same problem. It's easy to read angry essays and always think of someone who should receive them. An ex. A colleague. A relative. The entire fucking country. Then close the page, because your own case is settled: you're not like that. Maybe. But if no uncomfortable text ever applies to you, it isn't necessarily evidence of your exceptional decency. You may simply have learned to read in a way that keeps you outside the conversation.