I do not want the highlight reel - I want the confession. I want the hard-to-share tale of defeat before the announcement of success. I want the gossip that is too private and too valuable for the open streets. The kind of stuff you slide across a table a couple hours into a hang-out, after the dinner’s been consumed and the surface penetrated. The secret you reveal while driving, with your eyes on the road and off of their face’s immediate emotive reaction. That sense of responsibility that fills your body after you hear “don’t tell anyone”, and that felt cosmic belonging mixed with ego boost that comes from being trusted.

These types of exchanges do not occur online. Valuables are not exchanged in open valleys for all to see and replicate, be it energy or words or objects. Social media convinces us that it keeps us informed and connected, but you’ll never get the full honest story or secret details from a public post or DM exchange. All the sacred knowledge of this world is exchanged off-record, in real rooms, across tables and eyes. Don’t lose the 🗝🗝🗝🗝 (photo of me getting wifi from a boulder in that one giant mid city park taken by @rhiannonmcgavin while she was helping me practice for my first ever IRL reading of notes on shapeshifting)