Have I not been sharing? What does it mean when I stop having the urge to push replications of my experience out onto the web? That I'm living more fully or less analytically.

I went climbing the other day for the first time in almost a decade. It felt just right. My hands like to cling. My limbs like to stretch into the unknown, giving up security for the hope that they'll catch something I can't see. I like the simplicity of that space between rock and nothingness, choices reduced to the ideal of up. It's reassuring.

February 13

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