All the World’s a Stage and Identity is Just Another Costume
The intersection of every type of human in the park is incredible. Name an identity — from the most common to the smallest segment of current society, white cisgender heterosexual male to transgender bisexual black woman — and they will be somewhere in this giant wok on the east side of Chicago on any given night.
He was tired of carrying her weight. Her financial choices and responsibilities. Her alcoholism. And he knew she was tired of his drug abuse and laziness and porn addiction. And Train played. And the guy kept talking. “Thing is, man… if it weren’t for divorce, I’d have student loans.”