8/26/2024

In Seattle I feel set-off, almost ageless. I listen to the rain, looking for throughlines—from here to Boston, to Lincoln, to Omaha. Am I really still the same? Is that empty part of the world still waiting for me to fill it? Before your brain fully develops, you're aware of the emptiness. Then, gridlock sets in and it's harder to change. The dripping trees are still the same, though. Planes in the high fog.

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