Editorial: I Love You. I'm Glad I Exist. Yes, I Will Go to Your Show.

Did you know that love is what makes time tangible? 

I have spent years in vain. Shame compounds upon shame. I have nothing to show for myself besides my text messages or my Goodreads. An idleness that feeds on its own mythology almost killed me. I won't let it. The thing about being 22 is that you are now older than everyone who is 18, 19, 20, or 21. I feel perpetually 19 years old. It is an ontological condition you will only know if you look at your phone bloatedly after eating too much at an Ethiopian restaurant. Maybe when I'm 26 I will stop feeling like I am 19 years old. Listen to me, if you don't love everyone with the love that you love someone you are dying to fuck, you will rapidly impoverish yourself. 

The years are short but this moment is long. The thing about time is that no one can make any meaningful claim about it beyond pure affect. On the last night in heaven I was the only witness to the marriage between an absolute singularity and an immortally reiterant vibe. Why must I scorn anything external to me? Haven't I gotten sick of denying others the reality of personhood that I so generously endow myself? Yes, I will take your flyer. Yes, give me that copy of the DP. 

I used to believe in what anyone tells me about me. But what good is any of the good things people try to convince me of myself if I can't believe it. I missed the tankair sale. But I won't miss the fall 2023 show by the premier student improv group, Without a Net Presents: Like a Good Neighbor, State Farm. Everything will have been nothing when it is all over. I have never regretted doing something. I have always regretted not doing something. You must do to be. Yes, I will go to Penn Chinese Theatre. No, I won't go to the Shabbatones, I'm busy. Ok, maybe. But yes, I will go to Sophie's recital. I will come to your gig, but I won't stay at Smokes. We will all die one day, why don't you just say what you mean? Even if you always remember how we kissed, what of it? Everything will be forgotten but nothing will be forgiven. The future will one day gain the unredeemability and the finality of the past, and you shan't worry. Yes, I will go to Simply Chaos, a student-run standup comedy show. I love you.