A shaft of moonlight pierces the curtain
in my concrete abode, a flare lighting the way out.
The ephemeral promise draws me
like a firefly I seek my hopes.
The defeaning chorus of cicadas
consumes me in the darkness.
Out in the fields, the grains cultivated
what was promised eclipses the night.
A permanent night light bathes me
as the swarm of stars engulfs me
from the infinite black canvas above
and the mirror pools below.
The glow of a mysterious wonder,
of unattainable hypotheticals, and an ever-burning hope.
A small school in a small town,
on a small star floating in a small galaxy,
a mere twinkle of light on the intergalactic Scale.
7 billion unique collections of plus balls and minus balls,
all captured in a single photon,
all capable of being snuffed out,
through a freak encounter of entropic particles. …
I’m for truth, no matter who tells it. I’m for justice, no matter who it is for or against. I’m a human being first and foremost, and as such, I’m for whoever and whatever benefits humanity as a whole.
ー The Autobiography of Malcom X
The other day, I came across this juicy thread on Twitter (2) (yeah, I’m on twitter now if you didn’t know). Two people, who started with a disagreement about minimum wage, had a back and forth that quickly escalated into personal attacks and a warzone as opinionated scrollersby joined the fray. …
Note: this is best viewed on Coda for the interactive experience
My first encounter with a journal was “Diary of a Wimpy Kid” in second grade. At the very start of the book, Greg, the aforementioned wimpy kid, clarifies that it is a JOURNAL, not a diary. While I don’t remember much else, it was my first encounter with popular media putting journaling into the public light. And despite these media references normalizing the upkeep of some sort of record of your life as it unfoldsーa narrative accompaniment of sortsーI never picked it up or came across friends who would talk about it. It was associated with being dorky, silly, weak even. Why do you need a journal, can you not remember what happens each day? And it certainly never feels important in the momentーof course I remember all the minor details of the day: how Emily and April aren’t talking anymore due to the chocolate milk feud or how Mrs. Harris called Preston out on his constant fart jokes. Personally, I had my own qualms against journaling, having been engrained to associate math and science as the ultimate form of achievement through societal notions and the influence of having two engineering/science focused parents who loved what they did. …