June 28, 2021
Is it okay to keep some posts short? I’ve intentionally kept this from becoming a cesspool of small thoughts, but I’d like to entertain the idea of small posts as prompts to be poofed up later. I have loads of ideas sitting in drafts that don’t see daylight because they become deflated over time—created when I was inspired to write but couldn’t make the time and then struck with static impotence upon revisitation.
Spending the week writing on a laptop for work invokes a faint feeling of illness when I attempt to type out personal thoughts on the weekend. But how else? Analog, sure, though the posts would have to be digitized eventually. If only OCR results were scarily accurate instead of plain scary.
To the topic of discussion—I remembered I have old posts on Medium, among other self-publishing outlets, and wish to migrate them here. I’m not sure whether they’re better off deleted or archived privately. Suppose as long as they’re date-stamped, they can do no harm to the progression of my writerly voice as it crawls up the archive, if progression is even noticeable. Nor could properly chronologically-sorted content skew the inconsequential perception of my currently held beliefs any more than that content already does existing externally from this site.
And so the migration begins.
May 30, 2021
This is a retro-post from a newsletter once associated with a previous email address I’d been using. Uploading here for archival purposes so it’s not lost when I stop paying for the old address.
What’s the last thing you tossed or deleted for good? Utterly. Irrevocably. Irretrievably.
I’ve been yeeting old photos recently, as the kids would say. Sending media in my endless library to the electron bin to be written over with zeros. It’s scary but cathartic. I don’t want to accidentally delete something I’ll wish I’d kept. I also don’t want to have tens of thousands of photos that make vivid memories feel more mediocre in their natural light. How does one choose what to cull?
Don’t start with the low-hanging fruit. Start with the fruit that’s already hit the dirt and gotten rotten. Any and nearly every photo or video of a concert. Cute animals you’ve snapped but don’t hold a place in your heart. Landscapes for the sake of landscapes. All things blurry.
I keep photos of good meals I’ve made or ordered to re-activate past salivary sensations. They remind me what to rediscover in the kitchen—not Instagramable photos (I don’t have an account), just plain birds-eye shots. All photos with people I care about stay, besides bushels of alike snaps which I pare down to one. Some trip scenery is left for context. Almost anything I chuckle at makes the cut, knowing I can share the chuckle later.
I’m still going through my Photos library now. Down to 21,917 photos and 2,489 videos from some 30k a month ago. It’s slimming slowly. I periodically back up my computer just in case, but otherwise the cruddy, culled memories fade away after sitting in the Recently Deleted bin for some 40 days. The time they sit in limbo is ample enough for a quick scan the day after a chopping spree to see if there’s anything I have second thoughts about—which sometimes, I do.
Knowing I’ve queued frozen snippets of time for the electronic event horizon is unsettling. But once they’re gone, sweet honeysuckle it feels good. Clean. Cleansed. Condensed.
Press yeet, dear friend, and delete.
March 27, 2021
This is a retro-post from a newsletter once associated with a previous email address I’d been using. Uploading here for archival purposes so it’s not lost when I stop paying for the old address.
About to head off on a run. Second of the spring. It’s 14C. Lumy let me know it’ll be golden hour soon and I want to lap up those sweet honey rays. I’ll be listening to a foreign policy podcast. Wish I could zoom on until I reached some unknown destination, shower there and bed down in somewhere other than the place I’ve been the past however long it’s been. Must be nice to break free from the loop. That’s why I’ve been eyeing up the PCT for years now. Until then, I’ll hit this loop. Be right back.
…
I’m back. Been back. It’s been a few runs since that first bit. All sweet, soon to be soupy sweet in the summer heat. Topless jogs take you back to caveman days. Wind against your chest, sweat licks flicking off your fingertips. Expiration, liberation.
I know I’ve lost listeners moving here from Substack, so I’ll stick to talking text for my own sake. Deciding what to share and when to conceal. How do you decide your own divide between public and private? A trap I’d like to avoid is turning a newsletter into a congealed Twitter account. Gotta underprepare to overshare.
My most “recent” newsletter Is this thing on? was sent out January 8, 2020. I recapped recent writings in a section called Latest reads. Since then, I’ve written 15 posts. Here’s a brief bit on each. I read the titles now and forget what they’re about, so it’s a nice reflection.
- Lose yourself | How to land when you’re lost on purpose.
- Golf Shack | A simple poem written summer 2014 when I worked handing out clubs.
- Around the sun | My threefold constitution for 2021. Doubling down on the first one.
- A glimpse at Orville | An attempt at a horror short story.
- 25 | Turned a quarter century. How does it feel? How did it / will it feel for you?
- Same dessert | Brother and I have been listening to Milo. A rap inspired by his.
- Straps that stand out | Overdue post on sponsored watch straps. Kevin Littrell shot photos.
- Happiness | Audio-assisted reading on a moment in Bali when I was very alone.
- Stubble Cigar | Long overdue review of a wooden razor handle I was given. Photos by Kev.
- Congestion | Guess I got stuck and tried to lube the knot with words.
- Frank had a small TV | Character study inspired by a letter by Sol LeWitt.
- Secret Project | Sharing a bit I wrote to prove chops to someone interested in collaboration.
- Rock-solid Marketing | Quasi-case study on a marketing campaign I put together.
- Motivation | A structureless piece about finding structure to keep you going.
- Copy is terrible | Think about last time you whole-assed something.
…
Been keeping busy. Learning to pick locks. Formed a copywriting agency. Studying for my motorcycle permit. Adopted Aretha Franklin.
See that stripe-lined blanket? That’s the first bedding I ever owned. When I was a child. It’s an embarrassing reminder that as soon as I’m juiced up with the vaccine, I need to get the fuck out. I miss the world.
Just finished reading Matthew McConaughey’s Greenlights and damn am I envious. It’s well written—a surefire page turner. Puts things in perspective. That someone could write a book as a side-gig to their already earned success. Makes the pursuit of a career in writing feel void. I recommend the book though! If you can put aside the dissonance of a man trying to lay down truths who struggles to portray a balance of luck and hardship in a life of luxury. It’s easy to be introspective when the tab’s taken care of.
The birds are chirping outside again. Windows beg to be open. I’m slowly closing out stock gains to learn more before I invest this time. It’s been seven years of bullish bullshit luck. Conservatively risky. Been back to the ATM in a casino one time ever—can’t fool me twice.
Staying off coffee if I get less than 6.5 hours of sleep, otherwise religious consumption. Walking with binoculars. Earning blisters breaking in Red Wings.
Found the method for a mad perfect hardboiled egg: add vinegar and salt to the water. Lifting weights and protein shakes. Not sure they make a difference. Still haven’t finished Walden.
How have you been?
It helps the hubris to journal in public. I work in tech but don’t know how to dev. So when people say they’re building their thing in public, I want to tag along. Build my thing. Maybe it’s this new agency. About time I entered uncharted territory. It’s the only place I’m at peace.
Until next time,
███
April Littrell