moon list: april 2026
Dear You,
An hour ago: a long, rolling thunder, followed by five minutes of rain. Heavy drops.
It made me think of Korea, even though it’s been so long since the last time I was there. Something about the sound of water hitting the concrete, the still-hot air, the birds cooing as soon as the rain passed.
—
1. q or a (“there are years that ask questions and years that answer,” wrote Zora Neale Hurston in Their Eyes Were Watching God. Which one is this for you?)
The cop out answer is that it feels like a bit of both. It feels like a stern response to what I’ve been asking for the past few years, in a way that feels like it’s asking so much about me and the life I want, the people I care about, the things I want to do.
I don’t know that I have the right thing to say/ask back.
2. past lives (list some of your past eras or ways you’ve reinvented yourself before.)
My stainless steel pan era
The two and a half years of working at a camera store
My unemployed basketball Discord era
My woodworking era (mid-pandemic) (don’t do this in a small apartment with no ventilation or insulation)
The freelance era
The year of wearing hats (to hide every shitty haircut I got, instead of for fashion)
The move to Portland
The “playing guitar and singing sad songs” era
3. background shift (what is one small, accumulated thing that is different from six months ago that you haven’t yet given yourself credit for?)
I was going to say my job, but that’s not really small.
The real answer: my social life. I spent a lot of years lonely, intentionally so, which is fine because I know how to be extremely happy and satisfied by myself.
But I spent so much of the past couple years cultivating a community of friends of different groups and intensities, culminating in the ease of knowing. I know that I can hit someone up for drinks or a reading session at the bar or a shared meal. I have an excess of group chats in rotation.
4. diplomatic immunity (10,000 daily steps. monogamy. home ownership. identify a social “rule” or norm that you consider yourself exempt from [even if it is in abstract].)
Romance. I know, that sounds melodramatic, but I don’t say it in a “woe is me” tone. I know that I have a great deal of love in my life, in all shapes and sounds and colors.
In that same breath, I know all that love is different from romance.
I’ve never been in love in my entire life, and judging by all the people around me, everyone else has given up on that concept for me.
I say this with a shrug, an “it is what it is”.
5. macguffin (what is your current MacGuffin? the thing you have organized significant energy around that is…mostly meaningless. [or maybe it’s a condition you’ve set that once it is “fixed” your life can really begin.])
A lot of sports. Which I don’t say to be flippant. I consume sport as the art that it is, the storytelling that comes from the human body, the narratives that come from teams moving as one.
(I also recognize that sports largely involve adults being paid millions of dollars to play children’s games. Yes, there are real stakes involved, but I don’t know. I personally can’t take sports without that thought for context.)
It gives me something to consume every day, to study or have on in the background while I cook or read or write. Sports naturally come with a sense of routine, which I’ll always appreciate.
6. my mirror (who is someone that sees the real version of you [maybe before you do]?)
It’s still my mom. This is maybe a cop out because my mom will always see me as the baby, and she will always be my mom.
But she does seem to have a bead on me every single time I talk to her.
7. their move (your ex who got really into rock climbing? your parents moving cross-country. your most adventurous friend returning to your hometown and becoming a commercial realtor. when did someone else’s plot twist kinda throw you off?)
What my brother’s currently going through. I mean, I’m physically, materially fine, but it would be stupid for me to say it’s not affecting me in some way.
Mainly, I wasn’t not expecting it, but there’s a distinct messiness to how it’s all playing out that I couldn’t have foreseen.
8. portrait of the present (take stock of the things that are bringing you back to yourself right now. list some of the artifacts that are the “most you” of this current moment:)
The meal or ingredient you are having on repeat: brioche from the Notable Neighborhood Bakery near me (I get a loaf every week, and it’s always good, and I always get a little interaction with the cute worker there)
The piece of clothing that you don’t bother to hang up because you’re going to wear it again tomorrow: a plain grey Muji hoodie (it’s still cold enough in the mornings/anywhere in the shade)
A scent (perhaps a fragrance you’d wear or incense you’d light just for yourself): That delicious mix of garlic, soy sauce, and sesame oil
A song on repeat that you haven’t told anyone about: Hibou - Resolve to Burn
—
I hope you’re well. I could use some frozen yogurt. I haven’t even eaten dinner yet, but frozen yogurt sounds great. Remember that time in the mid-2000s when you couldn’t go a few feet without hitting a Yogurtland or Pinkberry? What a time.
Love,
A