A Place Not Quite the Same
I loved my Blogger website: it felt homemade, familiar, and, most importantly, mine. The Squarespace rendition, on the other hand, feels just like the mall in South Horizons today: somewhat similar to what it used to be, but much more sanitary. A mere hollow of the old thing.
Notes on Interning
Something scares me about the nature of office life. It might be the permanence of all of it — the lack of a collective knowledge that this is all temporary, that this will all end some day, the way kids in high school count down the clock together to the inevitable goodbye.
Rediscovery
in these snapshots you'll find some old friends and some new ones, a few places i know and a few more i discovered, and a (relatively incomplete?) collection of my better memories from this year.
(A Tent On A Boat: 2)
It doesn't do well to dwell on shedded skins, on expired hollows of ourselves. We forget to live if we do that.
Tanzania ’18
now, so much later—i close my eyes, take a deep breath, and there i am again.
Letting Go
My father was raised in superstition — he is a man with peculiar beliefs, not all of which are derived from logic or legitimacy. But, this time, I think that he may have been onto something.
