March 15th, 2021
This is going to be the last substantial post I make for a while, because this is the last post that’s going to make it in the book.
It’s weird because some of you will read these words on a screen and some of you will read them on paper, and this is the only essay I’ve written in which I am especially aware of these coexisting conditions.
The collection is finished. Pre-orders, which I have never done before, will be online soon. I have curated over 170 essays from 2017 to today and I have read over them at least a dozen times. I’ve been trying to think of a good way to wrap this up, and the most insistent idea is the meta one.
Some days I think the internet doesn’t need me. I think I cause more problems than I solve, and I don’t know if I balance the scales as much as I intend to.
Some days I think the internet doesn’t deserve me. I feel like I might spend too much time and pour too much of myself into what I write and share and I don’t have a good sense of its impact, if any.
Some days I need the internet. And some days I don’t.
I haven’t had the time or space or even the sense of normalcy to begin the grief process over what I lost in 2020.
But I’ve had my words.
I’ve had those and, for better and for worse, I’ve had you to read them.
And as much as it kills me to admit it:
I needed that.
So a sincere thank you is the only way this can end.
I hope this is the first collection of many. I don’t feel like I’m over as a human being quite yet.
It’s time to tie this particular parcel in a string and take the next step forward.
All my love.