--by the wonders of Google caching, hello.
You already know who I am, at least by name, but what you find here is who I am as well.

I don't know what will happen in my future, but I hope that everything I wrote in this page would have contributed in some small way to getting me to that point. These journals and deviations are my private thoughts along that journey, a montage of literary sketches and self-reflections that I’ve needed to mature as an individual and to better understand my capabilities. Whether in political communications, as a lawyer or a novelist, or as something else I haven't figured out yet, I want to believe that I have a unique voice and that there's a place for it in this world. Meanwhile, I’ve had to fight to keep faith in myself, try to prove that I was worthy of the prophecies, in the face of red lines that drip doubt and confusion.

Having these unpolished disclosures traced back, to lose that veil of anonymity, is probably not what I would have wanted, but now that they are, I won’t turn my back on them. I’ll look you in the eye and attempt to give you an introductory context. Some entries are blunt and forthright, some vague and nebulous, and all of them internal conversations that have brought me closer to revelation. Everything here recounts actual experiences, but are re-imagined here to better demonstrate their evocative properties. There are reoccurring figures, “imaginary constructs” you may recognize as real – but remember that whoever they are in life remains just a proxy vessel for some greater idea. Dig deep enough and you’ll find their names. A pantheon to whom I dedicate all that is here.

With that, I bid you farewell.
Or “be seeing you.”

Michelle

I look at them, passionately alive, and see charred dust, a fallen civilization. A pale blue dot pauses in a shaft of the sun, and we have all the time in the world. The termination shock burns like a thousand stars in the night.

I watch you fly further into the eternal silence, holding the burning torch of all we ever were. Will someone be there to see the light?

...appears to be offline.

And so, I watch us descend in slow-motion free fall. Yes, there is the darkness, but who loses if we lose ourselves? I've endured far too much to let it go now.
I know the route to despair and doubt well, but I also know the way out is through. I can list the names of men who share with us the same earth, live beneath the same skies. They've all evoked something in me, and by living their lives they remind me of why I have to keep fighting. I'll revel in this moment for as long as it lasts.

3:16 PM:
But how far have we really gone, R.?

3:28 PM:
Oh, get over yourself.

Where did they all go? Those shades and projections, eclipsed and nailed to the wrong piece of wood. Convergence is an illusion. Maybe there's a black hole at the center of your universe -- the way I can't decide where to plot my last fight, it's sure not heliocentrism. It's just one more. It's not enough.

Et tu?
Keep yelling, I can't hear you.
One! Six! Two!

Dig that graphite a bit deeper, make me a number.