A cabinet of small accumulations. None of these were supposed to become collections. Accumulation is a form of attention, and attention is a form of autobiography.
cabinet 01
Sentences that ended arguments I was having with myself
Collected from books, reviews, one audit, and a friend. Each one closed a loop that had been running for weeks.
“The tenth version of a plan is worth less than the second version of a thing.”
“Completion became cheap. Incompleteness became the honest signal.”
“Being anti-cliché is its own cliché.”
“You are allowed to be bad at this for longer than feels dignified.”
cabinet 02
Error messages with unintentional poetry ＊
connection reset by peer — the peer had had enough.
too many open files — the operating system, describing my browser, my desk, and my head.
nothing to commit, working tree clean — rarely true of the person reading it.
cabinet 03
Tabs I refuse to close
Currently forty-one. Each one is a small promise I have not yet broken. A selection belongs here, with reasons — the reasons are the collection.
placeholder page-note: keep collections that are genuinely yours; delete any of these that aren't. A false collection is worse than an empty room — and this room must never be empty.