The Gaps
2026-07-07
Remember the gaps.
I've been getting better at it myself, finding those lovely small glimpses of time where nothing seems to pass; nothing to process, nothing to manifest or build. Those small moments where Nothing Ever Happens—they're so lovely, aren't they? Less than happy, they make me feel comfortable. In the same way I can whine about how there's nowhere to go and nothing to do, I can find so much joy in that. Having nothing to do really is the best thing in life. American society in particular has a bit of a motion problem: go, go, go; up, up, up, you know? It's kind of weird to think that being sane and content is almost counter-cultural these days. Complaining and arguing provide a lot of dopamine, I suppose. Quite frankly, I think I have enough of that these days. From smoking 10–20 cigarettes a day to being zoobed out on my medications, I feel enough of the swings in my own head; there's genuinely no need for me to care about the swings elsewhere.
Finding interesting things to discuss can be a challenge, especially when I have to remind myself not to be so hard on myself during the drafting process. "No, that's a stupid idea, don't write it down," I'll say to myself; but the absolute last thing I'd want is to be staring at a blank page for the day. This far along, a blank page puts a thorn in my side like nothing else. I can't be so afraid as to express the woes of having a blank page—with a blank page. Even beyond the capacity for self-discovery, this writing ritual gives me a degree of maintenance. The best part about it is that there's no need to be so concerned about the outcomes of a particular session. What I love most about this project is how the thread builds over a long period of time, and so while some days will be less interesting than others, they all serve a unique purpose in telling the story that is my life thought through.
I have to admit, being known in this way is strange, but even stranger—it's been a particularly freeing process. All of the woes I have about my life or the world or whatever get translated onto the page and become the ultimate exhibit for the things that I personally find valuable. It is the ultimate praxis for me; it is peace in the rhythm; it's a life lived through rigorous and joyous practice. Crafting a line, figuring out the overarching narratives over time, and executing them in a way that's sustainable to my readers gives me immense joy. They say a picture can say a thousand words, but I'd prefer to do the latter. Writing itself has a certain academic rigor to it, associated mostly with the fact that it's taught in basically every school in the world; but to me, there's a greater sense of art in prose that I don't think a lot of people care to tap into. It's become commodified, centered more around value as opposed to expression, and this constant drive toward the former—not just as writers but also as readers—has done an absolute disservice to a process that we forget is literally magic.
In the same way magicians can further explore magic by revealing the secrets behind some of their tricks, the writer can do the same with their prose. Whether it be through reading widely with an open mind or experimenting with different forms and genres, a truly seasoned writer has the potential to craft exciting work at essentially rock-bottom costs. Of course, while this makes the "market" saturated and ruthlessly competitive, there's also much more potential in that; most readers know that most writing sucks, and so when a writer comes onto the scene with their unique and battle-tested style, it has immense potential to be even more resonant. However, like many other crafts, it's rare that this comes from exceptional talent alone. Even those who know themselves to be talented still have to put their nose to the grindstone and refine their work daily. But writing itself is particularly unique; compared to something like sports, there's a climb, peak, and drop when discussing levels of skill; however, writing only has an upward swing since it is a physically easy task. An athlete's career, if they're lucky, can last a decade (unless you're an NFL kicker :P)—but a writer's career lasts a lifetime.
Even beyond stupid metrics like sales, follower counts, or updoots, the quality of writing is a beautifully subjective thing. In most sports, the lines are drawn clear; there are winners, losers, and all kinds of tangible moments to point fingers at. Writing, however, simply stands by itself. Even outside of things like engagement metrics, the prose itself just sits there regardless of what anyone can do to it. If it's a truly powerful line, it stands even the test of time. If something truly resonates, it spreads and disseminates to get its message heard. The internet is a powerful thing in that regard; the internet doesn't connect people, but information. All we have on here is information, and I think my favorite part about writing is how non-discriminatory it actually is. All text on the page looks the same regardless of who writes it, yet in the best prose, the voice always finds its way out somehow.
Here's the secret: it's in the gaps.
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