choice loneliness - starting from nix

There are many lost worlds. In the early mornings along the green corridor in Singapore, an orchestra of sound. Cicadas. Songbirds. The modulations of light and shadow, burned grass and trumpet shaped Chinese violets. The home that we lived in for 9 years was demolished entirely, down to the splinters. Some things don’t change. H and I drink Pu-erh tea in a traditional Chinese teashop on Neil Road, sitting cross-legged on the floor until we’re giddy from caffeine. We name it her year of slicing the Gordian knot: she had a complex set of problems causing misery, and one decision solved everything in one fell swoop. H speculates about fate. I don’t know if I believe that all paths lead somewhere predestined. I take the stance that most decisions don’t matter at all, only one or two picked well fundamentally alter the course of your life. When a window opens you have to flood in. With that comes all the anxieties I liken to trading on margin: the heart-wrenching feeling of putting all of

There are many lost worlds. In the early mornings along the green corridor in Singapore, an orchestra of sound. Cicadas. Songbirds. The modulations of light and shadow, burned grass and trumpet shaped Chinese violets. The home that we lived in for 9 years was demolished entirely, down to the splinters. Some things don’t change. H and I drink Pu-erh tea in a traditional Chinese teashop on Neil Road, sitting cross-legged on the floor until we’re giddy from caffeine. We name it her year of slicing the Gordian knot: she had a complex set of problems causing misery, and one decision solved everythi