April 4, 2020:

Interesting to never dream of it. That place we all lived. So many dreams of former apartments, former workplaces. Never there, not even once. Perhaps it feels complete, in a way other spaces don't?

In memory I can walk it room-by-room, sidewalk-by-sidewalk, building-by-building. Each of the lofts, the stairwells, the spaces between doors. Couches, wall-mounted televisions, the now-ancient versions with cathode ray tubes. The shared coin-operated phone. Sidewalk to the cafeteria, dappled at lunchtime.

Three years, at the time many later said they felt most truly alive.

I experience those memories as intermediate. A holding time without real growth, where much of my purpose was to postpone the inevitable.