End Times

by Luke O'Neil

A carpet of autumn leaves at the Granary Burying Ground, Boston, where many of Boston's most famous citizens are interred
Werner Kunz [CC BY-NC-SA 2.0] via Flickr

How to write

So much of our great art is born of youthful heartbreak which is fucked because it puts you at an unfair disadvantage creatively not to mention market-wise if you’re aging in a happy marriage. One of the main things we’re supposed to want. 

Eventually the last and ultimate heartbreak starts to crest on the horizon though and the creative impulse is refreshed. 

Last call. 

Time to be taught and to try to teach the only lesson there is to people too young to believe it.


The Red Line

Well they had come back down again and gotten our asses pretty quickly. So now we were on the other end of that. Not as bad as you would have thought it would be for everyone everywhere all at once mind you. Just kind of a gradual expansion. Like when the Tatte bakeries started popping up on every block. Like viscous spilled oil. You could run away from it for the time being. Which is what I was just doing a minute ago. 

It’s a paywall, but a small one

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