Gravitational encounters - by Evana - arbiter of distaste

Hi, thanks for being here. If you’ve made it here without subscribing or want to support this project with a paid subscription, you can do that below. subscribe / upgrade + I’m retracing my steps. Somewhere only I know. Almost if I’m programmed to head in a single direction. I’m pushed forward. The wind picks up. Moving faster now with it. I look up at the leaves that rustle and almost lose my footing. If I called you, you’d hear the sound of my heels against the uneven brick sidewalk. You can’t picture it because you aren’t beside me. You don’t know which street it is. But if I’m alive, I’m moving. If I’m moving, it’s toward you. + November is a month of nostalgia. The changing light must have something to do with feeling submerged anywhere but the present. More shadows midday. Obsessed by the ghosts of the way things were even if I don’t miss them. Another month of hinges. It seems all anyone can talk about is the new early darkness. It’s hard to get used to. The quick jumps. Confusi

Hi, thanks for being here. If you’ve made it here without subscribing or want to support this project with a paid subscription, you can do that below. subscribe / upgrade + I’m retracing my steps. Somewhere only I know. Almost if I’m programmed to head in a single direction. I’m pushed forward. The wind picks up. Moving faster now with it. I look up at the leaves that rustle and almost lose my footing. If I called you, you’d hear the sound of my heels against the uneven brick sidewalk. You can’t picture it because you aren’t beside me. You don’t know which street it is. But if I’m alive, I’m m