dear internet,

since my last (very) tinyletter, i have quit my job, and travelled to delhi to pack up and move out of an apartment i hadn't lived in for over a year. in october if all goes well i will move to germany to do a master's, in a semi-spontaneous decision so uncharacteristic for me that when people ask the inevitable questions—what are you studying, where will you live, when do you leave—i feel flustered, like ice-breaker games when you suddenly forget everything interesting about yourself.

about these objectively momentous decisions i have felt calm and, for the first time, largely unburdened by nostalgia. mostly i feel like i spent these months doing so much nothing that all action became coloured by unreality to the point that i could deal with it fairly automatically. i packed up my work desk in about fifteen minutes and my house (with the help of movers and my mother) in forty-eight hours, and i've found space for all my books in my bookshelf. 

it is even more difficult than usual, for obvious reasons, to picture or talk about the future. for now i am listening to the new lorde on repeat, and enjoying that i am enjoying it. i am thinking of this poem a lot—not in a way that's about me, just remembering how much i loved it—and catching up on the second season of ted lasso, and aiming to read the books i know i won't have the space to take with me, but really just scrolling on my phone.

love,
t