For the better part of four decades, I’ve put my thoughts in many different places. Some of these thoughts have thankfully disappeared into the ether and some of them are rotting away in digital graveyards like Facebook and twitter. As the internet becomes more of an inhospitable place, I’ve been keen to keep my thoughts all in one place, on a platform I have as much control over as possible. I’ll still probably share on instagram and I may fire off the odd post on bluesky, but I’m going to compile them all here, too. Not because I think they’re worthy of preservation, but just so I don’t feel so digitally schizophrenic, so I don’t accidentally lose my thoughts when an account closes or a new billionaire buys up a platform, so my thoughts won’t get buried by an algorithm because I didn’t share it with a 30 second clip of a song that I’ve never heard all the way through.
Sometimes these thoughts will be accompanies by photos. Sometimes they will be long and sometimes short. Often times they will be very stupid. I have tagged the thoughts using a system that makes sense to me and ultimately I am unconcerned as to whether or not it makes sense to you, but I think it’s pretty self-explanatory. For now, there is an option to comment on my thoughts, though I will not allow anything I deem annoying or unkind to remain published. It’s my party, I can do what I want.
a new leaf
I love it when the room is quiet and then cwack!, you hear it, the sound of a thin sheath splitting and a new leaf begins to unfurl. If you listen closely you can hear it stretch, small but resolute and cracking like vertebrae, slowly, slowly. A breeze from outside comes through from under the door like a whisper and the whole plant flutters, delicate as an eyelid, blink-and-you-miss-it. Lola watches a spider creep up the long neck of the monstera and we all hold our breath; the sun is kissing the new green leaf and the cat’s eyes are narrow and her tail is thwacking the floor and I’m rapt, tapped into a universe in which I am godzilla, peering into rooms in which I’ll never fit.