If you saw my post-scriptum three weeks ago, I’m requesting donations. Not to me. To The Bail Project! I’m matching donations up to $1000 until my next post!

Comments are collected in person, via text, and through replies to these emails. Get featured and enjoy the smallest amount of internet celebrity possible. Without further ado some comments from human I love (hils).

I like mine in spheres and cubes too. But truly any shape of ice will do.

I’m seeing Kendrick today! I loved every song in GNX, I played it through every walk around my grandparent’s retirement neighborhood. I kept replaying man at the garden and this one. I’ve realized that I feel less alone these days, because I see pieces of me in everyone around me.

I didn’t put them there.

They’re just there.

William Bridges highlights something that I think about a lot. For a long period of human life, life was steady. There were always changes, but less of them. Now especially in America, life is constantly full of change. Transitions is about how to approach the messy middle.

A snake sheds its skin, the cells in our body are replaced every 7 years (I’m sure you losers with pollen allergies are feeling that), and seasons change. In other cultures they have rituals to mark important changes. This book helps create rituals in an environment where rituals are not embraced with gusto.

Call it egocentrism, but I’m a human and I like watching humans do things. Thank you for sharing this JM. There’s something nice about seeing the accumulation of skill in a vessel that resembles our own. Games become less interesting when people use cheat codes. Kyle explores a medium without cheat codes; full of visible imperfections and grueling hard work.

hard to say goodbye

There’s a trope about Indian gatherings. It isn’t goodbye until you’re driving away in your car. You’ll get ready to leave and hang out near the door for 30 minutes, chatting away. I always hated people leaving. I’d feel a little emptiness open up in my heart. It could be family friends, cousins that I saw once a year, or even friends that I’d literally see the next day.

It didn’t matter.

I’d always be sad that they were headed out.

I always wanted one more minute.

Nowadays I’m left with a sense of peace. I know they’ll come around. Even if they don’t, I’ll make the effort to bring them back around. Or I’ll tell them that the best part of my day is the ten seconds when I pull up to the curb thinking they won’t answer the door. No goodbye, no "see ya later", no nothin'.