"I want to be inside my own head, dreaming about those books I will read this summer or conjuring up hotels and rooms that fall almost instantly silent after crossing their thresholds." You see ... this is why I always read DF's work. Undoubtedly, he puts an idea straight into my dorsal lateral prefrontal cortex and I feel it, I see it, I smell it, I hear it. And this time, I felt that oh-so-common feeling of the instant silence of a hotel room. It's so familiar to me but I had never catalogued it until now.
You've captured something true about disconnection—not dramatic loss, but the ordinary morning when your heart simply isn't there. The fishbowl deafness, Walter's sledgehammer joy, those salmon pools at the end: these hold weight. The question matters to me because you don't pretend to answer it. You stay inside the inquiry, trust silence and gesture, especially with Walter. It's doing what good essays do: holding the question without collapsing it into resolution.
It's what the doctor ordered on a day like today, when my own words read foreign to me, along with everything I see outside my window.
so beautiful. I found myself pausing in places, letting your words settle over and into me
"I want to be inside my own head, dreaming about those books I will read this summer or conjuring up hotels and rooms that fall almost instantly silent after crossing their thresholds." You see ... this is why I always read DF's work. Undoubtedly, he puts an idea straight into my dorsal lateral prefrontal cortex and I feel it, I see it, I smell it, I hear it. And this time, I felt that oh-so-common feeling of the instant silence of a hotel room. It's so familiar to me but I had never catalogued it until now.
Another impressive piece, Damon. Sui generis. Can't compare it to anything. It's you. Pure you.
You've captured something true about disconnection—not dramatic loss, but the ordinary morning when your heart simply isn't there. The fishbowl deafness, Walter's sledgehammer joy, those salmon pools at the end: these hold weight. The question matters to me because you don't pretend to answer it. You stay inside the inquiry, trust silence and gesture, especially with Walter. It's doing what good essays do: holding the question without collapsing it into resolution.
It's what the doctor ordered on a day like today, when my own words read foreign to me, along with everything I see outside my window.
Thank you for the read,.....