Poetic Justice? Prosaic Liberty?
A Repository of Rotting Dreams and Flourishing Fantasies of Liberation
This is where I dump the chaos of my thoughts—the ones that roil around justice, liberty, and the constitution, but never quite fit anywhere else. It’s a place for my dreams that are withering away, and for the fantasies that somehow manage to take root—even in the most stagnant ponds. Here, I let my ideas cadence—imperfect, uneven, and unfinished—but constantly shifting and evolving, because I have no other way to make sense of them. It’s a messy, personal collection of everything I’ve been thinking about the laws that shape us, framed by the poetry of it all.
“Justice? - You get justice in the next world, in this world you have the law.” ― William Gaddis, A Frolic of His Own.
P.S.: So, basically. This is not a blog. This is a rage-filled filing cabinet with bad handwriting and worse metaphors. Here, the law is personal, messy, and very, very tired.