Fall 2021
With no words to speak about our love, we’re each one more alone.
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A more typical writing day for me is being constantly interrupted.
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The only stories we tell ourselves are the ones we need to survive.
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Imagine being able to calm the one you love best, who loves you best.
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I found myself alone on the train in possession only of Knoll’s journal.
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The exurban dream of it all, to enter is to have the ability to exit.
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I can’t see a way out of this. Things will not necessarily get better.
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