I stopped pondering eschatological matters in high school because they got me anxious and made me break out in hives under my left armpit (never the right; what’s up with that?). And it’s not like I’m ever going to figure out a mystery that eluded great thinkers like Foucault or Derrida or that unspellable German dude with bushy sideburns and syphilis. But I digress.
girl the anxiety is REAL. too bad there's no discovering the secrets.
