Nothing

Spiked space-quality wriggle. Rum tummy runner wrecks the deck and rubs the nub not wittingly with moon powder. Spiraling springtime bed spread butter nut nick tick tread. Socket singer harmonica hum bungalow bigger than life loads up on talcum Tuesdays with the buffalo bingo parlor punk off finger pork. Mojave crave craze squelch portal lampshade rust belt cigar box scrabble limb breath breeze piano key turquoise down drilling Clorox crown dancing black hole blooming poppy possum. Puppy child merengue mix pajama polygon binocular box car mental math oxycontin crawler kiss cool mountain mogul. Capstone checkers belly button brawl Venus piglet pylon light zap quick trap book melon piccolo porn coffee cardboard cannon knob canyon crater pounds per square fried rice ranger danger. Sound bleed cat nap soft trap door trickle metamorphosis pickax power outlet. Zionistic leeward chart drip dangle dingo leather belt sonata dark mango strikethrough fern felt pipe ticker tape. Anime handlebar hang glide present day sand dune expert handbook sale price poplar armor crave counting error max turnstile contortionist popsicle tumor treason tickler sick back nickel crumble cake. Memorization snake shower macro port walnut cut scribble fun fat ramifications worksheet silhouette sunshine suck volumetric oblong oolong ooze beaker breaker banjo bongo Mongolian marmalade reason. Help lector proctor major asterisk margin petroleum mitochondria oatmeal motor gateway deep sea microphone pamphlet chalet abstain creation horticulture potluck hatchback steam pain soft rain woodblock sweatshirt supernova. Tremolo Vincent Victor vector momentum starboard blue fork plan pitch forward drum kit assembly staircase turn hit flash batch cram charge nook hexadecimal mesh berry travel scorpion polka dot folk frenulum. Movie crack casino salmon smile getaway gargle stretch tripod transmogrification. Godless cuisine some shoreline caper fish egg frenzy fuzzy jealousy jam pack cordless parachute aspirational seminal charade meeting corn molasses bandana abacus dirt smack mystery green horizon billion postcard asphalt jumping twisting Turkish. Screwdriver nail polish flavor meadow developer vodka stencil harpist trapezoid latch penultimate climax ascension grandiose chicken wrinkle graphite halogen neck creek mattress electron badminton dissolve presentation fiberoptic topographic cork gold salt grit for sale undertaking inquisition acquisition position situation. Gravity poison bitter butter batter brittle little middle piano punch. Enjoy engorge release realize theory think twin mink pink tank cartographer gelatin can milk copy freckle sip. Listen liquefaction peruse poke cave cerulean something or other. Simple supple Donatello pitter patter syrup sauce eject yes test team up table stake grapple juice juggle naught nap crack tap. Camouflage best boy beret sugar swagger sinkhole psychosis squeeze trampoline cold magma miraculous expedition tent dweller heart cream. Sleep propulsion watermelon ming tot typeface nipple extradite superfluous super fluid formation automation machination zoological tart trooper. Snow bug lock skinny grapple cliff flower front international aluminum craft cookie swizzle master stick off switch trick six hundred turbine float fraternal vortex latex triangle slip touch torch. Gramophone monkey ash tray echo suitcase pancake panty pantry resume river redact rodeo horn boom boring bang bringer ring wringer lap mannequin flour emotion manufacture mental zinger letter bender breakthrough backfire enclave.

A quest for consolidation

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.

Oblivion

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.