the closest thing you have to sending a letter across an ocean and waiting longingly for your lover, dear friend, business associate to respond. you can draft and edit and unsend and they will only have the remnants of the data left behind in the morning. “edited at 3:42AM“ is your crossed out writing and your last text is sincerely or love.
A juicy story that’s too long and complex to text, sentiment that’s too sincere to convey in writing, someone singing a song, or part of a chain of messages in a group chat where we’re doing silly voices and riffing like it’s C*****n podcast
MAKING PHYSICAL THE JOY THE ONES U LOST BROUGHT YOU AS WELL AS THE JOY THOSE LEFT BEHIND CREATED AND CLUNG TO ON ONE OF THE MOST FUCKED UP DAYS IMAGINABLE; AT DADDY'S BEACH CLUB WE CRIED BUT ALSO LAUGHED + JOHN QUEUED UP MARGARTIVAVILLE THE MOMENT WE WALKED IN + THE BARTENDERS STOPPED LETTING US PAY FOR DRINKS ONCE THEY FIGURED IT ALL OUT; WE ALL WALKED ONTO THE BEACH AND INTO THE OCEAN AND THE SHOES WE'D WEAR TO THE FUNERAL THE NEXT MORNING GOT COVERED IN SAND AND SALT; RYAN FOREVER
