I love this. It's the kind of writing that feels lived, stitched from memory, humour, grief, and love. It doesn’t ask for my pity; it asks for my presence. And it earns it. What stands out immediately in the writing is its tonal conviction: rhythmic, declarative, and warm with grit. The voice is intimate but powerful, resolute yet tender, carrying the pulse of lived experience without ever tipping into sentimentality. I feel the weight of history here, not just personal but collective: working-class solidarity, shared struggle, the economy of care. Love it.
This. All day everyday. I call it communal currency. The love we exchange with others and within ourselves. My favorite is the half finished painting from the girl next door. I refuse to let her finish it, because how special is it that she felt comfortable enough to give it to me half done. We need more of this in the world.
I love this. It's the kind of writing that feels lived, stitched from memory, humour, grief, and love. It doesn’t ask for my pity; it asks for my presence. And it earns it. What stands out immediately in the writing is its tonal conviction: rhythmic, declarative, and warm with grit. The voice is intimate but powerful, resolute yet tender, carrying the pulse of lived experience without ever tipping into sentimentality. I feel the weight of history here, not just personal but collective: working-class solidarity, shared struggle, the economy of care. Love it.
Love the vibe.
It’d be nice to be in community like this.
This. All day everyday. I call it communal currency. The love we exchange with others and within ourselves. My favorite is the half finished painting from the girl next door. I refuse to let her finish it, because how special is it that she felt comfortable enough to give it to me half done. We need more of this in the world.
Thankyou for sharing that. Very wise. I loved it.