Counseling Anarchists

The men who came to strangle me were shrinking my world like the most delicately tinted of bubbles, shrinking in ever narrowing circles from the upward gush of my own infancy. You''ve got to be crazy to see a psychiatrist. Don''t call me if you''re gnawing on a bad day, and all you want to do is have a discussion.

We all marry our mirrors, someone who reflects how we feel about ourselves at the mo...