In the forest by the park.

breathing faster and faster in shorter and shorter breaths
can still see the [letter] scratched in my arm

it distresses me that I get so excited
 she is the first girl I ever loved.


just a short while ago I talked to [her]  on the phone
 I explained to her how I had no passion anymore
I suppose everything is alright, I just don’t know what to think.


It has been about a year now that I have lived semi-isolated.
I have written very little, the initial feeling is to say I’ve done little with the time.
But just because there are few stories, few pictures, few friends, does not make it so.
Everything that has been is gone but the impact of each decision resonates endlessly.
That which is to come never existed and can’t exist.
This is it.

I have waited for my father’s condition to stabilize, yet instead the cancer has returned.
And so I’ve tried to navigate and do what best I can.

starting to read again, not being afraid of fiction, while concurrently finishing up things I have started.
Surface things. Comfort things.

Regularly find myself questioning reality and confused if I am alive
or connected in any way with anything that my senses are experiencing.


I am glad.
for things are good
and I am here.

 beauty abounds endlessly
 connections never stop being made.
 I rely on the work of millions
 and do nothing alone.
 I do nothing alone.

– For more in this series and the story behind it, see 13 years