Sunday, January 18, 2015


Right now, you're reading this. Not as I'm writing it, of course, but in the moment as you read this, you and I are communicating, however imperfectly.

When I thought of writing this, about how a few people I know read these little letters I send out into the void, and about how there are maybe a few people who read them to whom maybe I'm not so close as I was, when I thought about writing about that, I was scrubbing the kitchen counter with a wet nap, feeling the bleach in it leaching the oils from my skin.

I thought specifically about the people who read this, who get inside my head every day, and I wanted to say, "Thanks," because I like having you here, in my head, just to have someone to talk to.

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