To My Newsfeed (first letter)

Are you waiting to leave, to abandon a bloating body, to amputate what you’re doing and what you’ve done? Are you waiting to know if you’re waiting?
Can you escape to places and moments that don’t exist yet, spaces and times precluded by what is shown to be necessary? Do find yourself waiting for them anyway, unable to fully grasp what they could or might be?
We’ve watched what is shown to be necessary before ever remembering anything of ourselves. We watch alone together while we wait. We’re watching what is shown to be necessary in becoming ourselves as we wait.
We’re afraid we’ll lose sight of what is shown as necessary, a terror always in waiting. We’re waiting for the results of what is assumed to be necessary in doing what we’ve done. We’ve been waiting to be ourselves as we wait.
We’re waiting for something to happen. We want to leave our leaving behind as we wait to stop waiting.

Whether we leave or stay, and no matter how long any of us wait, we’ll sometimes sleep, and as we sleep each of us will be alone, within and without ourselves, across our pasts and futures, the incomprehensibility of now, despite everything we have watched together.

Nothing is shared in sleep as we wait.

Are you waiting to wake up? I keep waking up wondering if I’m awake, if we’re sleeping awake together, if I’m waiting, if I’m waiting to leave what has been shown to be necessary, if I’m something other than what this waiting has made of me.

jeremy