June 2009
“ne jamais désespérer”
spring
I’ve started smoking again and my fingers smell when I wake up in the morning. Sasha says it gives him a headache. I’m fucking Sasha now. He calls me baby and likes to move me around and I let him. He prints out essays on deconstructing neo-liberalism and leaves them on my desk when he leaves in the afternoon, when I am at work. He hands out communist literature on campus and rides a bike...