In my 30s I fell in love got married, bought a house, had two kids, lost two jobs, got worried about fascism twice, survived a global pandemic while being an “essential worker” but not one of the heroes. I bared witness to celebrity death. I became dependent on a smart phone. I filmed myself reciting the tomorrow speech from that Scottish play several times, and never shared it with anyone. I watched a beloved dog shuffle off this mortal coil. I got the hiccups… with gusto. I wrote a few poems. One was about horses, another was about Elon Musk. I played it safe. I was reckless. Bottled up any negative emotion so that no one would see, because showing that is weakness. I lashed out, screamed, yelled and cried. Apologized daily.
When I was about my son’s age I created a book for a project. The book was called “Joe’s book of Knowledge”. The tagline was “with Joe’s book of knowledge I went from kindergarten straight to college”. This was pre-internet. Wait did I invent the internet? Anyway my son Isaac had to come up with a project over spring break, they were supposed to come up with a Good or Service. Isaac came up with a time traveling service, in his words, “so people can go back and fix things if they need to”.
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