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Fever Dream – Ghosts from My Past and Watching Bandersnatch
I have a weird quirk where sometimes the more popular something is, the more I resist jumping on the bandwagon. Some latent habit left over from my rebellious youth ? A remnant of anti-establishment feelings that never really disappeared, perhaps?
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He who shall not be named also known as: the son who died
I won’t mention him by name. I don’t want to sully his memory by talking more about the way in which he passed. There was already enough internet drama at the time, and my grief was public enough. But I feel it is important to mention this because I will refer to him as the son who died when I write about him. He was not my biological son, but he was my son nonetheless.
