Commutes

In which I still don't see what the big deal is.

Hello again.

One month left to make up a different life.

In which there's no point crying over it for 11 months.

A closure, and then back to normal.

It's only two weeks.

The most frustrating description of self-love you'd hear today.

A note from 2017 reminiscing about 2007

In which you shouldn't be so tired because there are other people more tired than you.

In which I think I carried myself well.

We've all lost it in parking lots. Right?

In which someone really, really doesn't want an explanation.

In which I have no memory of whom or what situation this recording is referred to.

In which loud rookies get some undeserved anger.

In which time is suddenly worthless.

In which it's not rocket science, but it is tiring.

In which we're experimenting, with the bathhouse and the recording style, but not at the same time.

In which there was no resolution. Final Part, for now.

In which...oh, what the heck. Part 2 of 3.

In which nobody ever wish to become 17 again, and yet. The tone means a few days (which felt like an eternity, of course) has passed. Part 1 of 3.

In which the crescendo of frustration is audible. Also audible in this recording: low-battery beep.

In which a memory is told in details, and in haste, a recipe for bad storytelling.

In which I missed a meeting.

In which I contradict myself (at least) twice.

In which, you know, animals live.

In which seething compensated for just saying something real.

In which I was young and had a lot of time to read.

In which something funny becomes not so funny.

In which I butcher philosophy. This recording was triggered by a New Yorker article on Derek Parfit by Larissa MacFarquhar: https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2011/09/05/how-to-be-good Edit: this is by far the most popular episode, and I'm dying to know why.

What to do, what to do.

In which narcissism appears.