name change

Hello you.

I’ve taken some liberties and have decided to challenge myself. My thoughts will go here, unfiltered, in the same space I use to do business because there is no dividing one from the other. I cannot sever into two forms of myself, I only ever am the one. May there be found value in him when he is cleaning data, and may there be found value in him when he is weeping over poetry.

I’ve never stuck to journaling before. Best you can hope out of me is two or three half-hearted performances before I lose my nerve. You know the one. The nerve it takes to look inward, to be assessed from across the abyss of man’s own heart, the kind of necessary calisthenics vital to the unbearable honesty required of these journaling attempts. My intentions are at least sound, if not the rest of me.

Do I reserve this space for subject-matter insights alone? I’m not certain I’m capable of maintaining that particular charade for very long.

The alternative is a trauma dump of a height and width and viscosity to rival all the plastic in the ocean.

I’ll think on it. Doubt anyone’s going to read these words either way. I recognize the value I have to offer here, on this ambitious little page, but it isn’t hope for exposure and eventual success which compels me, just the urge to do the work.

And if you are reading this, you were lured here with promises of AI tutorship and process improvement. You’ve no interest in why I can only bear to be in the office twice a week, or how it felt to initial divorce papers yesterday.

One of these loose threads involves losing the privilege of providing care for the love of my life and the other a crippling panic disorder, and I’ll let you guess which is which.

Don’t worry though. I’m still pretty good with data. Part of this whole thing is because at least this is a realm I can understand; functions and methods and outside-thinking and dialectic thinking.