flâneur

For the Love of Mindless Chatter - by Alexandra Molotkow

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Let's argue about aesthetics

I could say that my childhood ended when I finished reading It by Stephen King. It’s 1200 pages long, and I’d moved through it slowly over the course of many months, during which I’d graduated from grade school, got my first period, and started junior high. The characters were my age: I’d slogged with them through the sewers of hell, and we’d accompanied each other into young adulthood — in ways that sometimes upset me in hindsight, but which meant a lot at the time. And then they were gone, and I was bereft. Like most private experiences one has in adolescence, it would have been easier if…

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