Walking past Cinema 21 my husband and I found ourselves in a live action version of Laetitia Colombani's He Loves Me... He Loves Me Not as some person shoves a cell phone in our faces and begs to record our lives because we are "inspiring" then goes on to rant that they "have been watching us for years" Now I get to spend the rest of my time in Portland waiting for a knife between my shoulder blades because we spurned these fervid advances? Or is this going to require more stalking orders, endless court, just for walking down the street, minding our own business? Idée the fixe the fuck somewhere else.
We Are Not Your Art Project
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