Everyone nowadays, is up to something–plotting, thinking, rolling around between some sheets up much too late. My ruminations are in a process of cycling, moving, and acclimating. It’s been violent. I am a translator, a visitor, and diplomat. I exist without sense to and glamorous to others. I do not enjoy this baseline senselessness, I enjoy “humanness”—the banal, the messy, the deep heart pain of feeling connected to something, someone, a group. A cliché.

In the IE, I danced alone. In Chicago, I learned how odd I really was. In London, I learned to dance hard, always. In Thailand, I learned that even when bombs fall, you stock up on laughter and protect your guitar.

I learned that moving with others is essential. I want to move with all my friends, threading each and every one to another. To think, write, inspire, debate, challenge, anything, together. A friend once told me that a scene is needed for anything. I want to create a space for a scene to form and the space to play with words.

For now, the intermediary step is this blog which is selfish. My brain is full and I hate the echo chamber. My mind is cluttered and I want to make sense of my world. For now, it is my brain uncluttering with words. Soon, it’ll be yours at mentalclutter.space.