Lexington Avenue, NYC

They’re talking about new spikes in Brooklyn and Queens. They’re talking about the president’s taxes, how he grifted, dodged, and only paid $750 when he bothered to pay anything at all. His supporters think this is proof that he’s clever because our system rewards those who know how to strip the bones clean.

Meanwhile, we stand on dots spaced six feet apart while waiting to deposit a check or pay for groceries. Sometimes this feels perfectly normal after six months of pandemic living. Other times it’s like a cold wave crashing over my head, the shock of just how much we’ve lost and how quickly life has been remade. If I’ve gleaned anything from keeping this glum journal throughout this year, it’s that I keep returning to the language of grief. It seems like the closest reference point for being pushed into new terrain.

Anger or compassion? The answer must be compassion because it’s so much harder.

Matrix – Isolated Dot

Various Films | Chain Reaction, 2000 | More
Each night in 2020, I wrote a short post for a series called Notes From the End of a World because I wanted to etch these days into my memory. Before the world changed completely.
Notify of
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments
Related Reading
October 18, 2020


What is the line between fatigue and acceptance?
September 23, 2020


Three moments in America today that reach beyond my ability with words, striking only the rudimentary language of grief.
February 9, 2022

Slush and Stone

Ohio. The snow is melting quickly, leaving behind a scene like the bleary-eyed aftermath of a really good party.
Would love your thoughts, please comment.x