You are not haunted. You are not dead. Sure, gone is the tidal restless of E.B. White’s commuters, the “second” New York, but you’ve grown into your spaces.
Author: kojkoranteng
Bury Me Under The Yeti Village
This is not a happy piece about Los Angeles. This is about the city where I spent the five worst months of my life, where every day I sunk a little deeper into depression and alcoholism…
Wanderlust 