Back in 1994 when we first met, you were wild. You read books of esoteric philosophy and revolutionary tracts written by anarchists. You showed me that a real woman grows her own vegetables, maybe even makes her own clothes. You didn't shave your armpits. You made art every single day. I was not so concerned about your heroin problem. I could accept your suicide attempts. I just had things to do, other cities to see. I knew one day I would come back, and that's what I've done! But it just ain't the same. You still do yoga and talk a good climate-change talk. Your beloved reefer is legal now. But is there something you're not telling me? I found a Peter Drucker book in your bathroom. Did you go to business school? Our conversations have the tone of corporate meetings. When you say you want to change the world, it scares me a little bit, to tell the truth. I'm not sure I really know you anymore. Do you?

—Anonymous



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