The reality in life is that people are almost always too close or too far away. Proximity invites conflict. Distance invites loneliness. Distance is yearning. With distance I can be selfish, I can own myself so completely there is no other reality than the one that exists in my head. It can be perfect and I can revel in the pain of the idealist, holding onto what comes next, of what could be. It also means that I guard myself against the world. It means experiencing highs and lows, strength and weakness, in sometimes feeling each moment so strongly I can lose common sense, my misery can be so sharp I forget to notice where it falls into joy, where I am the mood, where I'm passing through agony and bliss so rapidly I forget the movement exists at all. I also will make mistakes. Many of them, many many of them. The point is to get close to people because ultimately the best moments and worst moments in my life involved other people. It becomes clear that I can’t do this witho...
I write to remember, to question, and to connect. Here you’ll find essays, stories, and fragments of life — all the ways I try to make sense of the world, one sentence at a time.