Some women are… you know, they’re fine. They’re gorgeous and beautiful and smart and they’ve got everything. But they don’t have it. And it’s just… well, I have no idea what it is. It’s just there. And I know it. And she knows it. And she has it. And it’s something there, something under the surface, something sparkling, something that dances around like little crystalline packets of icy snow when they bounce off the ice and skitter all around and shine a thousand twinkling light beams through the aether.
Childhood — oh, you are the great universal. You bound me into who I am today, but you are just a shell — I had to shed the dreams you enthralled me with to writhe away from your grasp. That boundless freedom of having every option was a prison all the same, and I knew it. But I miss you still, and sometimes I wonder… Have you forever slipped away from my reach?
Introduction I recently bought a drawing tablet to use as a sort of “digital whiteboard” on video calls. I think in large blocks of architecture, so having a whiteboard makes it a lot easier for me to communicate what I’m thinking to others. Using a whiteboard in real-time helps me sketch out and explore new ideas more concretely. Unfortunately, COVID has preempted in-person meetings for now, so I’ve had to find a way to do this digitally.
Please note: I write these posts more for myself than anyone else. I’m no preacher. As the (as of yet unknown) outcome of the 2020 US Presidential Election looms large, I think it’s high time to reflect on all the ways in which we vote, and not just in governmental elections. In fact, the non-political votes you cast are probably moreimportant, given that you cast these votes nearly every waking minute of your life.