what could i teach you that you haven't felt

my year of rest and recovery

I — Joshua. I’m turning twenty four this year. That brings a whole host of anxiety and fear. Where am I going? Who am I taking with me? Where is my career? How much longer must I believe in myself?

The funny thing is it took me so long to be able to think clearly. I desperately, desperately craved to create an audience of people who cared about my literary work in 2024 —————————————instead, what did I do?

I got broken up with and cried every day and raved every week out of fury and loneliness. I call it, “my black hole year that electrocuted me with memories of my ex any time of day.” Fueled by ambition, I experienced life alone to prove nothing could kill me. It helped, but it didn’t get me to where I want to be.

Everything I’ve ever wanted I’ve had to work for. It’s time to work on this. As traditional journalism dies— I refuse to search for validation from these racist, antiquated institutions.

I christen this newsletter “JOSH’S WORLD” as this will encompass my favorite things. Picture each newsletter like I’m whispering in your ear. Picture people you love listening next to you.

I do not want to make this long. I write off urgency and fury rather than perfection. I tried to make this perfect in 2024—I sat on six different drafts for seven months and convinced myself they all sucked.

This cat reposts some of the best poetry on the internet right now. As the world burns we must learn to describe it.

Below is a scanned journal entry I wrote last week. Fuck every tech CEO and ICE agent wholeheartedly —but people provide life. Here is mine, every Sunday, from my hands to yours.

A Room of One’s Own | Virginia Woolf | 1929

I haven’t read it.