At twenty-seven, Devin seemed to eschew adulthood, but he was the wisest person we knew. Kurt Cobain was larger than life, even after he died, but Cousin Devin loomed larger than Kurt Cobain.
All in Personal Essay
At twenty-seven, Devin seemed to eschew adulthood, but he was the wisest person we knew. Kurt Cobain was larger than life, even after he died, but Cousin Devin loomed larger than Kurt Cobain.
We’re in a brightly-lit church, and Dad is holding me while I struggle against him, while I struggle to breathe, while I struggle to scream because the ceiling is too high, and I was only recently acquainted with the world through the low, clear dome of an incubator upon which Dad used to tap his heavy index finger to the rhythm of “You’re. Gonna. Live. You’re Gonna Live.”
Sarah and I laughed uncontrollably during our best friend’s memorial service. We created somewhat of a spectacle in the otherwise somber church.
In October of 1994, Pulp Fiction was released in theaters and
I got my first period while camping in Yosemite with my entire eighth grade class.