Eternal Return (It's the law!)

1.1.1.2

“Look, look, look,” he says having arrived home drunk or finally, and without remorse, out of his mind “No I don’t neee-d any help. I’m fine. I’m fine.” And I conjure my father’s dementia — how his early senior-moment tantrums seemed to intimate observers, to be isomorphic to my own too dru…

This post is for paying subscribers