That old blogging problem
I remember why I first began a blog about a distinct subject like true crime: I don’t actually like talking about myself that much. No, really.
I’ve been doing something I’ve done a lot in the last 10 years, overthinking how to use this space after concluding I’m sticking with it, this is the blog. Then yesterday I asked myself some weird question about a passing curiosity and I recalled my best friend at the time, Matt, standing beside me in an ice cream place in 8th grade. I looked down and noticed distinct wear patterns…
