Writer's Diary
5/18/26
Suddenly the weather is balmy and it’s summer, as the cold spring has spontaneously combusted, and I want nothing more than to amble around the city for hours, and maybe that’s what I’ll do this summer. That’s what I did the first summer I moved to New York, when I had no money but had plenty of romantic hope (and this summer I don’t have much more money than I did then, but I certainly have more bills), but I feel like returning to the beginning of that cycle again anyway: being a wanderer and a nobody.
The strongest argument for life extension (mild life extension at least) is that everybody deserves a little more time to figure things out. It seems cruel that just as we learn how to actually live, we’d actually be near the nature of the good and goodness, our time starts to run short.1
One thing I’ve never understood is why one person would want to destroy another person on the internet, which is a proxy for real life—because there are plenty of things in the realm of ideas and in the realm of systems that would better serve for demolition.
After years of doing theater research, I think I’m ready to do research about myself again to get myself right—to develop the ideas and practices that I’ll need to make a contribution to the new and strange and somewhat sci-fi era that seems to be upon us.
(A lot of old ideas won’t work anymore, like keys that fit but the locks have changed.)
One of the side effects of memetic social media on the arts is that you end up living for approval from others, and clicks and likes, and the social drama rather than actual stuff. By forcing actors, painters, writers, directors, musicians onto the gram, we’ve done incalculable damage to the soul, artists and audience alike.