Kathi Crawford

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This world is not enough, he wrote. A world that subdues us, mutilates us, makes us operate on straight time, which can only be death time for many, makes us strangers to ourselves so that we can be recognizable to others, acceptable to others, normal to others. A world that pressures us to say at all times, at any cost, It’s only getting better.
There Will Be No Miracles Here: A Memoir
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