Blog readers are to Blog as the front row is to performance. Yet Blog is also personal. Blog is (or, given the form’s steep decline in popularity over the last decade, was) curated and semipersonalized intimacy, the process of CC’ing personal reflections to a hundred or a thousand of your closest friends.
If pressed, I’d call 2020 the best awful year I’ve ever had.
I don’t know how to say goodbye to this house, not only because my memory keeps it close, but also because it hasn’t quite sunk in yet that I am Moving Out.
This (k)new name, for me, is not a tie-cut but an invitation.
Mel lived every day in direct defiance of death. As in, laughing heartily and heavily in the face of death, all between poems and blog posts and crochet patterns.
All day it’s felt like winter break. No, all day it’s felt like an interminable scene posing as winter break, not doing particularly well at it, because rather than leaving me warm it’s leaving me hollow. I did my usual routine today, the one I’ve grown intimately familiar with in this week that’s felt bothContinue reading “oh glorious routine”
We are so desperate not only for a story about growing up but growing into ourselves.
I’m just not suited to live in the city long-term, especially one as chaotic as this one. Now, though, I’m not so scared of going, of the looming specter of “New York City” as something I must be unprepared for […] [I] shed old discomforts, to make way for the new.
“[T]hat’s what family is, at least to me. Being what we need to for each other, with each other, even if elements of it hurt.”
My home environment, though right now haunted by the final paper, due as late as May 16th, I have not yet turned in, is overwhelmingly more conducive to all forms of critical and creative thought than MHC was, if only because it acts as a change of scenery. I sit right now at my desk,Continue reading “buzzzzzz (changes in the scenery)”