Dear Wigleaf,

I'm writing this from the table in my apartment, which looks out to a snowy residential street in a snowy corner of the continental United States. Have you ever been to Minnesota? It's not so bad, I guess.

It feels like winter might never end, but it always feels like that. On Valentine's Day I walked around Target and dissociated to the discography of Jewel. My sisters had that book of poetry she released, but I never read it. How are you doing? I'm ghosting my dentist and eating too much pizza. Some nights I slither out of my skin and hide under my bed, waiting for the sun to come up. It always comes up.

I haven't watched Russian Doll yet, but everyone seems to like it. I wish I could retweet my past feelings, my past selves, into my present timeline. I want them to take my place. But then I remember Cate Blanchett's character in Ocean's 8 and figure the future can't be so bad, which is to say I want to be her, visually-speaking. Those clothes! Those cheekbones! Can you believe.

The sun goes down and comes up. I think I might be losing my libido, but I don't know, we'll see. I might make some eggs tonight and start watching Russian Doll. We will see, we will see.

xoxo.

-J.




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Read Jeremiah Moriarty's story.

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