By: Adam Donshik
There’s an old kind of fight that’s happening here. And, by old, I mean biblical-old. The kind of fight that shifts paradigms; situates parties on either side of the good-bad divide; makes you question your sanity and your will to persist. Going into it I know full-well I’m not going to win, and, yet, here I am moronically barreling forward. Clearly, I was either dropped as a child or some part of me loves being masochistic. Each time I say it’s the last. Each time, a lie.
Once more unto the breach.
“Bedtime. You need to turn off the TV.”