The Ballads Of Mister Rhodes

Have you ever found yourself trapped in a downcast loop because you made the mistake of asking yourself if everything is okay and you can’t find an answer? I am finding it increasingly difficult to see myself as a part of the world around me. Of course, it is possible to bend to its expectations, but there’s only so much contortionism I can do. It feels like my opinions on how we should live are growing further and further away from how people are living. What I consider indecent seems to be settling around the current norm. I cannot sleep. I’m not sure if I’ve done the right thing or taken yet another chunk out of myself. There has come a point in which I am thinking a lot about how much of me there is going to be left if I continue as I am. It would all be easier if a doctor just pulled me to the side and announced to me that I was mad. (Artwork by  Müge Olçum) I do not understand this place anymore. At first, you could talk about the way things could have been different and you...

It’s been a while since something really inspired these cogs into whirring. These days it's just easier to hit the gym for the two hours of each day I set aside to feeling alive. Eat and then nap the whole afternoon away before plugging into some brain-draining episodicals until I feel as if I’ve imbibed enough dribble to either make a good serial killer or be psychologically equipped to catch one. I was becoming one of you! But now this! A welcome reminder of the importance of distance. (A portrait of herd-mentality in 2020) I wasn’t sure how to start, so I’ve decided on the screwdriver inserted right in to the reader’s liver with the angry precision of someone who just realized they had their drink spiked. Something that pitches my tent over here and leaves the rest of the field empty, bar a few begrudgingly discarded tins of beans.   “Black lives matter when a white cop kneels across a black guy’s throat for 9 minutes.”  I thought I’d give that sentence so...