Gunmetal Geisha | A case of chronic dichotomy | Page 2

It was a buffoon’s pathological yearning to be in the spotlight — as opposed to power — that brought Donald here. […]

Let’s stop being idiots. […]

Cartoony victims don’t bleed. My arms assured me I was no cartoon. […]

I was whimpering into a spoon. […]

Without my permission, I suddenly turned into a spurned lover. […]

What’s new? Nothing and everything. The future is now. […]

When people refer to themselves as “single,” their voice drops a little. […]

In my other life, I get to sleep in my own bed. […]

We’ve floated from Tehran rooftops to the streets of Florence to cathedral catacombs of Upper Manhattan. […]

Such ugly fun. Naturally I was addicted. […]

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