Letter of the Week
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We could follow suit with our dreams, every moment that made us feel alive. Admittedly we weren’t bothered losing sleep, the reduction of our dreams we’d endure. Oh, to lose oneself in something not felt in our waking hours. Only fantasy and memory. How many chances will I always receive? They are beautiful in their…
About the Archivist
This is a site based on my writing with a focus on cathartic moments and points in my life that I hope might resonate with readers.
Each is transcribed with care and respect for the medium that first carried it: the typewritten page.
What Crosses My Mind 