I (usually) write about what steals my sleep.

June 2025 threadings unedited

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Someone on TikTok asked me in a comment:

How do you decide what to write about, especially in the United States when something happens every day? 

And my answer is:

I write about what keeps me up at night. I try to sleep. I really do. I try to live a peaceful life. I do not speak gratuitously; I don't like talking much in general. I write about what steals my sleep, mostly because I am up anyways. Messages and themes that I assure you did not originate from my person come and eat their way out of my flesh. I suppose I would choose no other way of living— a life of periodical possession by ideas that find my body a worthwhile hosting site makes it easier to be brave with the artform. This process of art making makes it easy to reject a proprietary mindset about “my” work. How do you own the living bits that spill out of you? How do you bottle and sell that kind of stuff? More on this in the next essay, where I talk about the happy fact that I give “my” money away.

All that said: Today I write about my life.

For now— for this particular loop of time, before the next possession— I get to write about how I feel and what’s happening to me. No possession, no overwhelming spiritual compulsion to write until I come back into my body. Just… the rare desire to communicate with you all for fun. The Changes currently taking place in my life… they all feel vast and (mostly) uncomfortable. Recording my thoughts and personal events in this manner is unusual for me now, but I can recognize these entries will likely become important over time. I want to show my work; my mind is malleable and dynamic, and thus, so are my decisions. The outcomes always feel inevitable in hindsight, right? In reality, nothing is inevitable. I make all these small decisions every day that beckon forth the life I continue to wade through.

I just wonder if I am making the right choices.

POWERS AND TRIALS OF VISIBILITY | June 2025

Welcome to a quarry of thoughtless ponderments (AQOTP), a personal tradition in the journaling of ismatu Gwendolyn where they put all their recurrant thoughts down in a list-like fashion and wonder if anything will end up making sense the whole time they write. Today feels indulgent: smoothie in hand, tea on the stove, no little word maggots eating their way out of my flesh. I am writing not to survive a birthing of ideas, but because I can feel myself breathe. Wow. Such luxury. Here I am trying to tease meaning out of a keyboard.

Chicago in June!

• I love the summer in Chicago. It was still kinda cold! Oh well! Greatest city in the world, even so. In less than a week, I:
  • saw Sinners with a very dear friend,
  • attended EyeWitness Palestine’s fundraising gala,
  • consulted with the SJP chapter at m alma mater,
    • attended and taught at their protest,
  • planned and executed two in-person events, and
  • told off a senator on multiple social media platforms.
    • Ah, Chicago. You always bring out my best.
• I announced two events essentially the… morning they were taking place because (1) I had no idea if I would be let back into the United States upon arrival and (2) I did not know when I would get an opportunity like this again. Despite there being less than 12 hour notice for both, there were multiple people in attendance that crossed statelines to be there. Present in the (packed out!) rooms: a variety of ages, ability statuses, races… such wider variation that I thought algorithms were capable of garnering. I am so enthralled. Do you realize how much is possible with a makeup like that?
  • When I was shocked by these outcomes (and said so), people chuckled. It’s you, folks said back to me. Right. It’s just that… I just got here, you know. To this iteration of me. Nothing about this life was or is inevitable.
• I had, by the way, absolutely no plan for either evening. Both were run entirely on vibes (and on the lovely administrate executional abilities of Marsae, someone who entirely volunteered herself to make this happen. Thank you so much Marsae!!) For the first event, as I greeted a crowd of people getting larger and larger… I… had no idea what to say other than how frightened I was. I said something like, “hi, my name is ismatu and I’m having a really hard time understanding I’m… in public and that people can see me.” Every face in the room was masked, mind you, and I could still feel the confusion. What is obvious to you all is not obvious to me, who still feels this flesh body every day. Nothing is obvious to me. I thought like… ten people would show up. Chairs ran out before the event started. By the end of that first event, so had the standing room. Can you imagine telling ismatu in 2022 that silly attempts to a skincare influencer would lead to this? What is obvious about this life, other than the fact that all this can only get bigger?
• Once I felt the fear in my fingertips openly, it became easy to conduct the energy present. I had no thoughts, not really. No plan outside of collage making (and that went out the window when I was looking at eighty people who showed up day of patiently waiting for me to do… something). The five threads of time we teased out of conversation (forced political thought, spread of infectious disease, classic war-making, money movement, and social power) jumped from the room and out my pen. Nothing was planned. I will never forget this night, the palpable magic of thinking together, letting stories co-mingle in the air, trusting strangers enough to tease out answers about “what happened?” And write them down. I will never forget these nights. Never.
  • These are the events that made me realize how necessary a book tour is: one that happens for free, across the world, so that we can get used to what it feels like to be thinking in rooms of people, rather than endlessly longing for that day.

Cory Booker’s Mangy Self

Mangy. And I mean that.

Senator Cory Booker reposted a video of mine— as in, him or someone on his team downloaded it, re-uploaded it to hispersonal short form video accounts, and happily tagged my name in the description. As I said in the last quasi-essay, I was originally not going to say anything. But then, people that are familiar with my work kept tagging me: did you give him your permission to post this?

??? Oh girl no. No I did not.

I did not realize that people might wonder this… but then, we’re still new to this space, aren’t we? There are lots of progressive/“left” internet content creators that have collaborated with representatives of the state. I have seen Kamala Harris shucked up with internet folks more times than I would like. It’s a worthwhile question. So I made a video (less for him, more for you all) acknowledging the fact that I publicly do not respect him.

[insert video here]

Now: There seemed to be genuine confusion as to why I would critique Cory Booker for reposting my video analyzing the most recent regime change in United States history. I was unaware this would not be obvious, but then, didn’t I just state that what’s obscure to me is obvious to you all? The inverse must then be true. I’ll state what I see here clearly:

Individuals that hold public office do not use social media like you do. 

Of course it is alright for you all to repost my videos; that’s the nature of the social internet. If you are a a particularly big account, then yes, I do think it’s polite to ask permission to repost someone before you expose their face and voice to an audience that might be predisposed to disagree with them. I’ve watched livelihoods get stripped from artists and laborers because someone else took their online work and re-posted it without their permission to do so. Being in the habit of asking, for me, re-affirms the mindset that the internet and anyone participating does not just belong to me and my conveniences. I will never move like that, even if other people do.

The layperson uses social media to communicate and elaborate on various ideas. Public figures of any sort (especially those that act in overtly political fashions) use these communication apparatuses to advance an image of themselves that they find advantageous to their overall goals. Cory Booker is a United States Senator. In the age of social media, we (the public allegedly in charge of our representatives) allow said representatives to posture a progressivism that they do not act upon. We have presidents, one of the most powerful political positions in the world, tweeting out opinions about policy instead of enacting them. 

We allow this to happen because spectacle comforts the vast majority of us. These sentiments (which boil down to: I do think this should happen, but what can you do really?) allow us to believe that the people we have placed in charge aren’t really all that powerful at all, that everyone is at the mercy of the big bad right wing, and that even speaking out on social media is an act of bravery… for elected representatives of the people. The people we specifically concentrate power in. This is how you manufacture opposition. When you look closely at what the goals the people in power are, and evaluate by their actions, not their words, more insidious realities become clear: the goal is to hold on to power while mitigating personal, financial, career and political risk. If you have a voter base that leans progressive, you will need to make sure they believe you are on their side. If you have a system of authority that gleans its power from the open exploitation of the global working class, including your constituents, and you want to reap the rewards of that power structure, you must never be a threat to their machines of war and extraction. If you want a life rich in comforts and the illusions of safety, you acknowledge these contradictions and decide the easiest, most secure route forward is spectacle. How do you make people believe that you are more progressive than you ever intend to act?

If you’re someone like Cory Booker, you utilize social media. With the understanding that most people participate in the social Internet as an extension of themselves and their thoughts, you (the political figure in power) move in the same fashion. Despite the fact that you don’t really intend to act on your ideological beliefs, you posture like you do. You take other people’s faces and voices and use them to sanitize your political track history. This is extra insidious since you (the structurally powerful) have direct lines to power that most people do not. But… ideological convictions requiring true action from you would require risk. And we can’t have that, can we?

Is my disdain clear now? That lily-livered lint licking cowardice keeps the world turning like it is. If Cory Booker acted as progressive as his social media would have you believe, he wouldn’t take money from AIPAC— an ideologically-based political lobbying organization that heavily influences United States Congress (in favor of Israel and their genocidal regime). 

He wouldn’t vote to confirm Trump’s croonies as delegates or representatives of a nation state (while posting other people criticizing them). He would display his opposition to the current regime with his power as an elected official, not just with his visibility on social media. The man thrives on spectacle; visibility is one of the only power he has, since he chooses to be harmless to the regime he claims to oppose in his actual political career. I keep telling y’all that visibility is possibility. I keep telling you all it matters who or what you pay attention to. He harnesses the power of visibility with social media to make most people think he is more progressive than his voting history proves, and I know this because I received comment after comment accusing me of “in-fighting” and claiming we were “on the same side.”

Ismatu repositions themself, grabs the mic: in no existing world am I on the “same side” as Cory Booker.

By the way, if you’re like: What is AIPAC? Here’s a phenomenal video:

A quick summary: AIPAC stands for American Israel Public Affairs Committee, and they are a Pro-Israel lobbying group pushing forth pro-Israel policies in the legislative and executive branches of the United States Federal Government and has been doing so since 1954, shortly after the bloody formation of the settler-colonial project known as Israel. They claim that they are for increased security for both American and Israeli citizens. Lobbying, by the way, is political persuasion from groups with particular political interests. For example, should you vote against AIPAC-approved policies, they will make sure to back your opponent in the next race, smear you with “anti-Semitic” proxy critiques (like they did to Jamal Bowman) and ensure you lose your primary so that you cannot run again under the Democratic Party. Most other countries call these acts bribery, collusion, and bullying, but we have fancier, more sanitized Western words for civilized corruption. Lobbying. 

Lobbying legal apparatus that's part of our Congress and our executive boards. AIPAC, along with their associated non-profit, AIEC heavily influences members of the United States Congress in favor of Israel and their genocidal regime by taking members of Congress on trips to Israel to meet with the military, politicians, and even the prime minister. Now that's not what they will say their stated purpose is. They will say their stated purpose is to increase security for American citizens in Israel by taking members of Congress on a trip every year. However: the purpose of a system is defined by its outcomes, not whatever it says it does.

Do the majority of American voters want blank-check, no condition aid packages to the Israeli occupation more than we want affordable healthcare domestically? Does that matter to Senators like Cory Booker, who wish to keep their seat more than they wish to fully represent the wills of their constituents? If you have so many social media critiques of Trump's regime, why vote to confirm his croonies as delegates or representatives of a nation state? If you claim to be a progressive politician, why take money from AIPAC?

Posting > policy is duplicitous and an open act of cowardice. And there really were people saying things like, well cowardice is better than nothing, right? Negro what? Cowardice is nothing. And moreover, posts > policies’s effectiveness as a strategy lies in its ability to hold onto the lucrative nature of “serving” in the US Senate. You should look at this behavior and understand when a man is playing in your fuckin face. He is an opp, as in an opportunist and in direct opposition to the world I wish to see, where the genocidal project of the US nation state has dissolved. I would like people like Cory Booker to be made irrelevant. Anyways.

The Limitations of TikTok (et. al)

That video, the one where I essentially tell Cory Booker he a Grade-A political coward, circulated well on TikTok even though my videos on the whole have declined in views. I hypothesize this decline happened because TikTok circulates “takes” and “discussions” designed to make the participants and the witnesses angry— or, at least, to cheer at the perceived ideological destruction of someone else. It’s a digital version of the Roman collesiums— we really likeidealogical violence. Nobody wants to be kind to one another!

No fr. In truth: I would not speak like this again. I got excited once more about dunking on someone I have no respect for politically or personally in public. And while I would have said this (and far more pointed critiques!) to his face in real life, I forgot that the reason I wanted to clear this up was not for him. He is irrelevant. It was for you, to answer the inquiry: did you give him your permission to post this? I did not, and I take great offense to being part of Senator Booker’s systematic sanitization of his political self.

Even still: I don’t want to encourage us to be excited about the internet disrespect of cowardly public figures. I want us to have the working and applied knowledge to get excited about our sovereignty. I wish for posts > policies charlatans to be made irrelevant, so I should have moved like that and focused my energy accordingly; I don’t care about him. I care about you.

These apps disincentivize kindness because internet-fighting fills us with emotion and entertainment (which we like to pretend that is more educative than ends up being). I’m not worried about “clap backs” or “cooking” or what have you. I don’t feel a need to throw around moral or political pejoratives because that, materially, gets nothing I actually want done. The more I invest in my material circumstances, the physical life around me, the more I am disenthralled by the politics of on-screen “discussions.” You can’t be “clapping back” at people in physical life and simultaneously manage to get shit done; coalition building in physical life necessitates orientations of kindness (especially in critique). 

What I should have said was: I’m going to point out something that feels obvious to me that may not be obvious to you: all public figures (myself included) use social media as a means of narrative shaping rather overtly. It furthers our goals to have people think certain things about us, because the opinion of our selected public matters to the materializing of our goals. Your primary question, when looking at anyone who exists in any significant public should be: what are their stated goals? Do their actions support that they say?

What I would add to that now: The reason I got nice-nasty at Cory Booker for reposting my videos— as in downloading it and re-uploading to his accounts— is because he, alongside many other politicians, employ a post > policies practice. It is advantageous for them to have you believe that they are more progressive than their voting history would reveal. All of us up here know that most people use social media as an extension of themselves and their thoughts. We use this knowledge in the construction of personal narratives. For someone like Senator Booker, who does not voteagainst the right wing regime he claims to oppose online… what does his personal narrative making reveal about his overall goals if his actions move in the opposite direction?

Then: Do this for me. I too am a political public figure. Never lose skepticism of me. What do I claim online? Where do my actions account for my claims? Where do they not? Your critique makes me better. Don’t hold back.

To be clear: I do not think I should have been kinder to Cory Booker. I think I was too nice, actually, since the videos of me are still up on his page. I think that my task as a public scholar and political actor must be bigger than internet back and forth with irrelevant, bad-actor cowards. You all are worth more than that.

The Paradox of Panic.

I wrote this out in a political journaling session— hoping to have another one soon, but the electrical power is on its second day of vacation.

Basically, we have this cycle that happens where something precious about our society breaks and collapses, right? There is a break, there is a breakdown, there's a shattering of the veil. People don't believe in the thing anymore, right? The thing breaks, okay? And then this ensues panic. What do we do? The thing is broken. The power grid has collapsed. The neighbors have been taken by the gestapo. The parents have been jailed for a lack of proper documentation on them. The school systems are shut down because the teachers have striking. None of which is hyperbole! Something has broken! Something has bitten us, drawn blood, ruptured our faith in the nation state project in the United States and in the world order as it stands. So people panic.

The next bit is that the dominant narrative from news cycles, from politicians, from the stock market, from your neighbors, from your mama, et cetera, the dominant narrative says: oh no, it broke! And there's panic! Everybody just stay the course. Stay the course. Run towards the systems that we have in place. Okay? Panic! You’re right to panic! Run towards the systems that we have in place. Stay the course. Don't do anything rash. Don't do anything crazy. Just continue on business as usual and things will sort themselves out over time. That's why we have leadership. That's why we trust in this great nation that protects us.

The only problem is that the breaks are happening in the systems that we have in place. The breaks are happening in the systems that we have in place. 

So then we just get caught in this feedback loop. A break happens in the system. It causes panic instead of pivoting. Breaking out of the system and doing something radically different. Remember: radicalism is just a significant departure from the systems that we have in place. Instead of deciding to do something or try something radically different, even for a moment... we stay the course. We heed the command: go back to the systems that we have in place, even though they keep breaking and they keep inciting panic. Stay the course; go back to the systems that we have in place. Even though they keep breaking, even though they keep inciting panic… stay the course. Go back to the systems that we have in place. And so then we create this feedback loop, this feedback loop that does nobody any favors (or nobody in the working class, anyways), where the only thing that we know what to do with panic is to run towards the systems that we have in place. 

“Posting is Power” one of the reasons we allow politicians to get away with that posts > policies nonsense is because we believe one of the primary sources of power we, the laypeople, the global working class, have is our voice. Our social media, where we can make clear what it is that we think. I do not agree this is a position of power. That makes the apparatus powerful, but not necessarily the user base. Everyone believing that posting on Instagram or YouTube or whatever makes the platform powerful because of mass participation (and mass participation leads to the infrastructure being legitimized in the minds of the masses).

Herein lies the limitations of TikTok: the people are the generating site of power. Now that I have amassed people looking, listening, reading, watching, supporting… we have to cut out the middle man of these spying, addictive algorithms. I need to create the means for us to gather and enact change in real life. This is my job; it’s the minimum of what I owe to you all. 

algorithmically elected official.

I made, inarguably, my favorite video of the year standing outside waiting for a car to take me to a college campus. I had essays in my hand that were physically warm, literally hot off the presses. I had a friend print them for the demonstrating students. It was just starting to rain. And I'm thinking about how to best explain my loving obligations to you all with a camera in my hand. I had just called myself in this video where I told Senator Cory Booker off an “algorithmically-elected official” and people thought I was joking. I'm not joking. How best do I explain how literal I am?

I was sitting here, standing there, right? Mask in hand, waiting for my car, knowing I had like two, three minutes to pull this video off before this car shows up. I'm like, how best do I explain what it feels like and what it is actually like to beresponsible to hundreds of thousands of internet strangers turned comrades because you all entrust me with your mind, and you trust me with your attention? You give me precious moments to be able to explain or re-explain a concept to us that I think might be beneficial for our collective. How do I explain that obligation? How do I explain how much that has shaped my life? How do I explain how much that keeps me up at night, that weight, that responsibility? How do I explain how it's changed every facet about how I move through the world: the way that I handle money, the way that I think about my self-importance, how much I take for myself, how much my worldviews have changed from “it's what I deserve” to “how much do I owe myself so that I can continue to be an asset to my community? How much more do I owe to the people that are here with me, doing this with me?” 

I'm thinking all these things. I have no words for it. I have my camera in my hand, tryna sound it out. I see a car pass me slow, keep going make one turn, make another turn. I'm like, what the hell? Car literally spins the block, okay? Man gets out. I'm like, what the hell? Man says, instead of like, robbing me, Man says:

I just want to let you know that you mean a lot to me. 

I'm paraphrasing here, but it was an internet friend, a constituency member called David, who apparently plays some mean jazz. Love that. He says something like, “Your videos mean a lot to me. You always make me think and I really appreciate them, and I think the work you do is very important.” And I am like overjoyed, right? Again, random cars spins the block. I'm like, what the fuck? This is easily the best case scenario for that. And secondly, I'm like: this shows so much better than anything that I could have explained, right? You mean to tell me that I can stand on the street in a homeplace of mine and get recognized off the street by someone who's familiar with my work and they feel so compelled by my work that they pulled over their car with a kid in the back to get out and tell me so? That’s what I mean to people?

This is a symptom of being responsible to people. That's a physical manifestation of what it looks like to be in it with folks for real, right? So we talked. I asked him if he wanted to be in the video. He said, yes. I handed him one of the essays that I was taking up to the North side to go to this SJP demonstration at. And we talked a little bit. He got back to me. He said he read the essay that it was helpful that like he wants to be a part of things that he can continue.

Listen, we've talked about this before, right? You all know that I can't do this forever. I like the outcomes of this work, this online work, but I don't like the process. I don't like this much screen time. I don't like being on social media. There's a fracturing that occurs in and on my mind, seeing myself rather endlessly. I don't think humans are supposed to live like this. You know, the kind of mental fortitude it takesVto incur risk like this, to watch an animation of yourself garner applause and vitriol and misunderstanding and idolization. You know what it feels like to be inside of this little robot exoskeleton watching yourself grow bigger? Continuing?

I do it because it means something to you all.

And because I think that we're capable of doing something real together. And I'm sorry it took me a while to figure out how powerful this is and how unique this opportunity is. I know that I cannot do it forever, but for the next three years, it's you and me. I'm gonna give it everything I have. All this is only gonna get bigger is what I'm trying to say. It was a real reality check realizing that I'm big enough to go back and forth with US senators, okay? Not that it's beef, again, Cory Booker, very irrelevant, but like, this is a different life than what I was once living, okay? It's only gonna get bigger. I trade real and precious parts of myself to the magic glass mirror, know, betting on faith that these seeds that I wrap my words in will be worth it, that the stratification of my personhood is worth it, that I'll regenerate more than I gave that I will always, or if not always, at least until the end of June of 2028. 

So to reiterate, just in case you missed it, I'm only on the social internet until 2028. 

Announced this in 2024, by the way! https://www.ismatu.fm/i-want-my-community-to-outlive-me-675f97769d4efa001b77d92d/

And I cannot emphasize enough the meaning of connection and interaction is so much different in person than it is online, okay? Gathering in person in Chicago showed me the real point of this short form charade, pretending to be an influencer, okay? It's to connect with people and to connect people to their lived lives in their neighborhoods and the political organizations happening around them. That's the point of going on an upcoming book tour that isn't designed to generate any money. Everybody can come to every stop for free. It's to give folks an onboarding point. The hardest part about radical action, radical as in to meaningfully depart from the systems that we have in place is starting. The hardest part is starting beyond the thinking, the posting, the reading, the physical actions that pull your life into different directions. That's the hardest part.

From there, gets easier and easier to continue to make these decisions because your life is going in a particular direction. Radicalism requires a creativity and a bravery and an endurance and a communion. It requires you to have people to do it with you. How do you get there from watching a video on the internet? You know what I'm saying? What would all this be for if I did not use this mass of people to bring us closer to collective sovereignty? That's what I mean when I say them on algorithmically-elected official: that I represent ideas that are bigger than just internet entertainment, educational entertainment, whatever the fuck. I don't care about any of that.

You all concentrate power and belief and resources within me so that we can make changes in our material world. And that's what a representative of the people is supposed to do. I'm not kidding about that. I mean it. I know that I mean it ‘cause it's a rice harvest coming this fall. Like we went from nothing to something because we collaborated to make it happen. There's a lot more that we could do, you know?

I gave him an essay, that David. I am so happy this happened. I want to do this again and again and again.

What would all this be for if I did not use this mass of people to bring us closer to collective sovereignty?

Conclusions

• I’m on a path in life that thrives in visibility. That weighs on me in many fashions… sometimes triggering bouts of reclusion… oftentimes leaves me overstimulated, where I find myself observing my ringing phone feeling all manner of disgust, fear, dread. I’m recognized by face and name in every city I go to now from the internet. Including when I am home in Freetown. It’s felt delightful that people wish me well and it’s felt tragic that I am no longer my own and lately it’s felt like nothing at all. Lately, the exoskeleton is disembodied: I, from behind my eyes, observe a stranger called ismatu chatter with someone who knows precious and very genuine bits of them. In these moments, I become my reflection. What happens when real pieces, expansive pieces, necessary and bloody pieces of you live inside a mirror? Beatific and trapped in glass? What do you mean little bits of me live inside of the ether, inside of your phone screen? I cannot pretend like that means nothing to people. Like it means nothing to me. I cannot I can take myself back at this point. I pretend like this does not tear at my heart a bit.
  • What happens when you do not belong to yourself wholly and cleanly, like you once did? When there’s a thousand mirrors of you reaching millions of people and all of them have your blood and flesh? How do you change when so much of you belongs, sincerely, to your peoples, to your masses?
• I don’t know. How can I know? I am here with you, in this middling loop of time, wondering how it all plays out.
• There’s no thesis, no grand conclusion. I just don’t want us to forget me here, in this teeny, finite body, on the afternoons and evenings where I am inside, touching fuzzy textiles only, eating pieces of sourdough bread slowly, pulling it apart in my mouth, considering the decisions that I keep making and the blessing of bread without death. The day to day to day to day to day can ruin you in all her small, seemingly insignificant loops of time. I wonder what it is that I am doing to myself. I wonder about the realities of proliferation that I can’t have known about until well after they happen. Will I forgive myself for the ways I traded my mind, my body when I did not— could not— have known better?
  • What if I don’t?
    • Here, there’s usually a small chorus encouraging me towards some saving grace individualism. “It’s still your life. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
    • Be real with me. How honest is that, this assertion that it is “still my life?” What does it really mean to belong to yourself and only yourself? Is that the lived reality for any of us— happily so? Is my life not also my mother’s, my neighbors, my dearest friends, my sister’s, my godchild’s, my countrymen? Do they not hold some stake in me? Do you all not hold a piece of me? If I perish, or waste in exile, won’t something be lost? Would a crying gap not generate, reverberate? It’s as if you’re gazing at a tapestry and saying to one little bit of thread, it’s your life. As if there will not be a hole far greater than that singular loop of string should it fray. As if that portion of string is not connected to the loops and loops and loops before and after. Truly: how much do we exclusively belong to ourselves? Do we ask ourselves that question to assert our self-autonomy or hide from how much we owe to one another? Is this not the contradiction of man?
• Anyways. Yesterday I said hello to a very, very large coniferous tree. There were all these little teeny raindrops on the needles, caught in between descent and handful of homes. This particular tree is growing pinecones. Did you know pinecones start out in little green beads? They look just like blueberries before they turn indigo. All the earth’s kindnesses are fruit. I looked at the water hanging on the needles up close; bumped my nose to it and came away wet and blissed; remembered when I was a child and I learned that pinecones open in water. Trees used to be my whole world and that was more than enough. I love the trees. I love the trees. I am so happy I still remember to love trees actively. This interaction (this kiss from a coniferous tree) reminded me that there’s still a lot left that I love about this world that I am not willing to lose. A world where trees are a commodity and not bliss is just as much a possibility as one where the trees grow taller than any nearby building around, simply because they have been allowed to grow unmitigated. There is still time to save our own lives. The trees. The trees!

Hope the work of your day passes through your hands with ease.

Or, simpler said: peace.

ig