Ten.One Thousand & Sixty-Four

1. The heat returns.

2. More and more baby snails, some less than an inch long. Tiny miracles.

3. I listen.

4. I see all the black squares and it doesn’t seem right. This is not right. I am not wrong.

5. Long chains of puzzle pieces, no idea of where they belong. The puzzles help the nerves, give the hands something else to do that’s not scrolling.

6. The feeling of being an outsider never seems to go away.

7. I don’t have the capacity at the moment.

8. To text someone you haven’t talked to in 10 years so that you can unload your guilt. Audacity. But not surprised. I just hope none of the other white people from my past suddenly feel the need to call and text me.

9. We say “no” to the Youtube channel. I suggest making videos and sharing directly with friends through the messenger app. She says there is a 2-minute limit for videos. Then we have a short conversation—well, a lecture—on how working within constraints pushes your creativity.

10. She is preaching a sermon. I hope the ones who needed to listen, were actually listening.

11. How long could this last? For as long as people have time. Right now, they’ve got a lot of it. And, in some way, that is the beauty of cosmic timing.