There’s nothing like reading the Tumblr page you haven’t updated in 5 years to remind you of who and where you’ve been. While not in tune with today’s sensibilities, my posts were well constructed, well thought out, and honest.

I was a better writer.

So I’m thinking of who she was. What she’d do. She didn’t have the constant noise. Lived in NoVA, then Chicago—took the train in both, so she listened to music, but didn’t have white noise.

There’s not many moments in the day when I’m alone with my thoughts. I listen to podcasts mostly—voices of talking heads who tend to intimidate me by their intellectual and pop culture prowess. That’s different. I didn’t know what a podcast was towards the end of the first Obama administration.

I know that current Monica loves the nights when she turns on Pandora or Spotify and just jams out—

you’ve seen the videos.

I want to be a better writer. I need to rediscover my voice. I will stumble while doing so, I’m not going to lie. Stick with me. What’s this, the second post in one week? And I have two more to go.

I’m on my way.