Gratitude Washing

The case for making friends out of outcast emotions.

As I meander through the narrow cobblestone streets of Paris I catch myself. Pounding my heels to the pavement, sunglasses on, AirPods in — I am lost in my own world. Swirled away on daydreams of soaring above the palette of grey that the city has supplied me with, cotton candy skies streak my mind. I reside in the clouds, picking only the plumpest to r…