"Imagine being our parents, where you could break up with someone and then just assume they ceased to exist and maybe once a year you’d see an old Polaroid and then need to drink a tall scotch in front of a rainy window. So much classier than unsubscribing from a Spotify playlist."
Stuff I like (all)
the pressure on first generation children of immigrants
to prove that you are indeed proof that parents’ sacrifice was...