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to my stagnant energy
In which it’s everything & nothing
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IN THIS PROFOUND TIME
“A hard task, dying, when one loves life so much.” — Simone de Beauvoir
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INTO A NEW YEAR (AFTER LUCILLE)
In which I am ready for a new year (thank you Lucille)
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DUFFY ON MAPLEWOOD
in which it was April 2020, and I was losing it, just a little bit (maybe a lot)
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FIELD NOTES
“And the people seduced by your work are usually seduced for all the wrong reasons. Or are they the right reasons? Do all the nuts in the world really have your number? And not just your telephone number either.” — Erica Jong
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SEX IS DEATH
“What do I want to do this year? What do most people do in a year? What do the birds do? What does it all add up to? What does it mean to love writing? What else can I do? What happened all summer long?” — Sheila Heti
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note to self
but I never longed for a glamorous life in the first place
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LABOR DAY, 38
In which everything & nothing is the same
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LABOR DAY, 35
“Everything’s cool, I’m great, it’s fine” — Father John Misty, “Just Dumb Enough to Try”
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A Very Strange & Specific Thing
This is for Brian. It’s not enough. It’s something.
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ARH 