As I write this, a hurricane is approaching the eastern seaboard, which captures the general mood for the past eighteen months: the waiting-and-seeing.
Tonight I sat in front of a fan while premature firecrackers echoed through the streets. I wondered how to live in a nation that’s circling the drain.
This season of suspension will forever tint the thoughts of all who survive it. Bright-line moments from recent memory cannot compare.
Consider the word “ecstasy” in its strict sense, a Greek word that describes standing outside of one’s body.
It seems like a tragedy to go through life not knowing the names of the lights overhead.
