Where I can be found for the next decade or at least the next month or the next week or the next day maybe whatever.

Note: I'm training myself to use sentence case in titles here if for no other reason than the look is growing on me. And since these pieces are called The Informalities, maybe the informality of sentence case works better.

Update to yesterday: I spoke too soon; but there is, at least, an end in sight. Might be a ways off – and the destination may be something of a disappointment drill (as my grandmother would've said), but it's nonetheless visible over the horizon. So there's that.

And here’s this:

I've long tried to find a way to make social media work for me and I've decided that it – that search – is a waste of energy, a thought loop that gets triggered whenever I start questioning The Work and/or wallowing in the perception of my general isolation out here.

Reality: feelings of isolation increases with social media use.

If I've learned anything over the last few years of managing a chronic illness, a task that requires me to find reasons to carry on with life four times a day (in my darker moments, I question why I wasn't allowed to die on that table), it's that life's too short to be someone I'm not; I wasted a tremendous amount of my life being what others needed me to be (or, rather, what I perceived others needed/wanted me to be), corporeal and/or digital, and I've nothing to show for it. It wasn't worth it.

No, all I can do now is what I enjoy, what gives me a modicum of pleasure and artistic satisfaction. For now, that's limited to posting here, my Micro.blog, and in the weekly newsletter, doing my thing, whatever the hell that is…

Happy New Year; if nothing else, 2020 arises from my hand with more fluidity than 2019.

Listening: PASSAGEWAYS, by Forest Management.