Agency

Every morning when I sit down to write, my mind is almost blank. I have a thousand thoughts but none of them are worth writing about. Should I write about the massive shopping list that I am dreading financially? Or should it be about productivity hacks? Maybe I want to…

Convenience

I realised I haven't sat down to listen to a music album since years. I am fairly certain it is because I have managed to take leisure out of my day, completely. And whatever leisure I have, is taken up by YouTube shorts and others like those. It…

Hard - hard things

Yesterday night, I was talking with a friend and I said something along the lines of cycling is the easiest hard thing I do. When I was riding my bike home, I realised a lot of life's' responsibilities and tasks can be put into a table, a…

Editing

If there was a sport made out of the act of writing, its rules would probably require one to be able to not delete anything. Everything that one writes, has to be a stream, without the possibility of edits. You might be asking, without the perspective of writing-as-a-…

Thinking

It is almost impossible for me to repeat a piece of that requires thinking. Maybe you can relate to it, regardless it it was a letter that I was writing, or if had gathered notes from disconnected bits from the internet; if somehow I lose it, I can not make…

Emergence

I like to simulate things. Big things. Things that are very predictable in theory, but almost impossible to do so purely with intuition. Like a bunch of animals in a farm, or a bacteria growing in a petri dish. I like creating worlds and watch things change, move & grow;…

Mornings

Mornings are something that I do no associate story telling with. It is time for work, time to grab hold of the day. And work is inherently serious; serious to a degree that there can be no space for a story to be told. Stories are distracting & messy. And…

The evenings

It is harder to write in the evening. By the time the day winds down, I have already had experienced the day, and my thoughts are muddled by the hours gone. There are no fresh thought; the fruits of the day have been cut and left out in the open.…