khaos, goddess of khaos
Good morning! It’s 2:40 pm. I’m in (one of) my childhood home(s) in Staten Island. The heat is on and the windows are open. My socks are covered in dog hair. I have wedged my laptop between piles of stuff - issues of Record Collector magazine, fidget toys, a fluorescent menu for a nearby pizza place - on the dining table. My stepdad is playing an LP he …
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