Netigen
Courtney
These are dispatches from the in-between, where memories shimmer and fade like half-forgotten dreams. Here, in the space between yesterday and tomorrow, I try to make sense of it all. Don’t expect grand pronouncements or universal truths, just the quiet reflections of a nobody—me. And if you’re curious about netigen, well, let’s just say it’s a relic of a much younger, even less imaginative self. Welcome.
All posts (17)
It’s strange to realize my father is turning 80 next month. When I was born, he was 36—making me already eight years older than he was when he became a father of two. Though I’ve come to terms with the reality that I’m unlikely ever to experience being a father, there’s still, admittedly, a faint ember of longing....
I encountered a post from Ning this week that offers a robust look at the organization system she uses to keep track of her life. I don’t mean a mere journal; this is far more comprehensive. Yet she writes, “It’s simply a matter of organizing the information [..].” That choice of words—simply—is utterly astounding...
On the screen to my right, I just noticed what amounts to an advertisement for AI. Someone uploads their resumé and submits the following prompt: “Can you make a storybook for my 2- and 4-year-old daughters explaining my career in the style of a coloring book?” I am not a parent, so maybe this is an unfair...
I’m sitting at Kings Avenue Tattoo in Massapequa, working on these notes while Amanda gets her sleeve finished. Her artist, Jasmine Wright, is in town for the week, and honestly, this setup couldn’t be more relaxing: big comfy chair, free Wi-Fi, AirPods in, music playing. I have nothing but praise for this shop,...
A swell in reactionary shuffling online caught my eye this week. I’m no stranger to the art of tearing things down. Back in college, I’d regularly take this very site offline, replacing it with the deliberately cryptic—an unexplained song lyric, an angsty declaration, a message so encoded even I couldn’t decipher it...
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