I am no longer a teenager, but I feel like I am, or wish to be, maybe. Memories are a lie, nostalgia is a trick. It wasn’t that good, it was plagued by newfound intense emotion I hadn’t weathered to yet. Or maybe it was? In high school, it is easy to have the new best night of your life, and I feel like it happened all the time. Every weekend we would buy bottom-of-the-barrel wine go down to the beach at night. Later one of us might be throwing up out of the back of a car a drunk friend was driving. It seems insane now, but it was pure fun then. First love, listening to indie music and smoking cigarettes with the shower turned on. But also first heartbreak, coerced sexual encounters and expulsion. Wreckless abandonment, lack of embarrassment, maybe there is something great about your prefrontal cortex not being fully formed.

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