Thinking just now, doing errands in my unglamourous but startlingly diverse neighborhood of Kensington, Brooklyn, looking around at a thousand cases of not-too-much-privilege-given-the-larger-middle-class-standards-of-the-larger-culture, that maybe identity is not a costume. That it’s wrong to say that.

And then I thought again. Yes, identity is a costume. All the other stuff (the givens) is a curse. That’s the spirit, right?!

I feel blessed not to be a part of any kind of traditional community.

And lost.