Updated: Sep 11, 2019

What was intended to be an examination and consecration of sorts evolved into something much different. Ten pages became six, and six became one. An ode to a perpetuation of stories became what you see before you.

I whittled down a disjointed, splintered ramble into an intricate, beautiful wooden figurine, which I have since placed on my shelf for safe keeping. This figurine will forever serve as a reminder that I am not alone.

The remaining, carved pieces may eventually be nailed and glued together to form a clever means of salvaging our humanity, but I think my point was always intended to be something elevated in its simplicity.

Ultimately, path after path brought me to the same humble conclusion. And it's no consequence that it was the same conclusion expressed in Hannah Gadsby's Nanette.

Life is about our connections.


Cake side, rocking on a screened-in porch with Rabbit Peter and his brothers, Peter and Peter, in the company of friends and coffee, I am given many perspectives in the sharing of stories through talk. Day turns to night, clit-tails are served in cold copper mugs, and the conversations continue to roll. We get high on the sexual gospel of Hozier. We share our passions. We discuss cooking versus baking and articulate the science of both. We laugh until we cry at stupid memes. We gaze and dream about our futures.

We exchange pieces of ourselves.

My wife, my sister and my niece, who call me every day, my family, my friends, my pets, and my community.

These are my tethers.

And who keeps you?

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