snail chainmail

When I lived in British Columbia, Nathan was only a border away—a reminder of back to reality, we had these other Midwestern selves, survivors of high school and hijinks we had roots, dammit and inside jokes we made tee shirts out of.

Nathan and I inside of a giant tree, looking at his iPod.
He shines at cutting to the chase. Upfront about openness and great at advice, our hearts have often been in the best worst place, and he never lets me get away with not knowing what I’m really saying.

Stephen King postcard.

Back of postcard, on which Nathan has written, What is the most important thing you've written? What's the most important thing you've read?

The front of the postcard I returned to him, featuring a dolphin. It said San Diego but I crossed this out and wrote Austin. I also drew a tiny taco for the dolphin to eat.

The back of the postcard, essentially saying that deepsicks is the most important thing I've written and read. If you're listening to this and want to transcribe it, contact me and I'll be happy to do it.

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