Excerpts from a well-loved journal on its final pages, from a well-lived year.
twenty three is... shapeless, lovely and lonely. we are together in our singularity; the paths ahead for each of us are different, but the tiniest bit clearer each day. we don't know how long we'll get to work together, or live together, but we try to forget about that at happy hour. the sharp intersection [...]
twenty two feels like messy cursive, ink to paper, the pen never coming off the page to breathe. breathing would mean stopping for a moment and missing a blurry, beautiful, unremarkable, magical, infuriating day. racing home to scribble down an idea before it slips away. dreams won’t move, can’t move unless you do. curled up crying [...]