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On Selling Out

URL: http://www.jewishjournal.com/addicted_to_redemption/item/on_selling_out

When I was younger, I would pride myself in my rebellion. In high school, I would habitually leave class and venture off campus. On the weekends, I would stay in bed for as long as humanly possible. I would hook up distortion pedals to my bass, play only songs in minor keys, and whisper and yelp gibberish into microphones.

My mantra was “question everything, no matter what.” My jeans were torn and lazily sewn back together with unflavored dental floss and most of my t-shirts were sleeveless. I read just enough Sartre and Camus to hate the world, but not enough to find the beauty in meaninglessness—or, as Harriet likes to call it, “spiritual housekeeping.”

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