Camille: New Orleans via Brooklyn via Brussels

None of this is actually an accident. I’ve probably said this before, but I’ve sort of come to believe that accidents are pretty rare in the grand scheme of things. Like, someone in whatever situation in which you find yourself generally has enough control or cognizance to change the outcome. I’m generally pretty happy that person’s me.

That I’m sitting in my brother’s coffee shop is no accident.

I’ve also come to believe getting what you want is by no means luck. I’ve stopped believing in luck, too, but that’s another thought entirely. There are people who want you to want to ask them for something, and as soon as you show them your desire, or your lack of something, that’s the second you can hear the crack.

This feels like writing a song.

I think a lot about what I noticed after he left. I noticed that I didn’t notice anything when he was there, and that I had to think about how to ask, how to require. How to parse a demand from a request. I didn’t realize they were different.

Black coffee with chicory, please.

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