Globnar

If you receive an email from me in the next hour I'm sorry.

Pros of an at home espresso machine setup: Mmm coffee
Cons of an at home espresso machine setup: Messing up the precise schedule of caffeinated such that I skip the productivity stage and go straight to gang stalking victim.

Anyhow, John I don't know if you'll ever see this and far be it from me to tag him, but thank you. I could never thank you enough.

To this day, nine years later, The Sunset Tree will stop me in my tracks. Not out of pain, but out of gratitude for shepherding me through something which should have at best sent me to the hospital. At worse, the grave. Every track is beautiful, tender, and strong. When I needed it, it was there.

I later found out drinking with that antibiotic causes "fatal seizures." I came closer to death than I realized.

I stumbled to a bodega, bought two Gatorades, some limes, salt, and water. I almost shit myself in the bodega and hobbled back to the Bond Place hotel feeling a mix of disgust, shame, and pride at having survived to tell the story.

Around noon I came out of it. Like waking from a horrific dream. My body ached. I had likely bruised, if not broken, two ribs. I texted the one person I knew wouldn't make fun of me, someone I barely knew. She brought up a yogurt from the vending machine and somehow I kept it down.

I remember humming Dinu Lipatti's Bones as I dry heaved over the sink, unable to even keep down water. Drifting in and out of half remembered dreams. Tracking time by the repeat of Hast Thou Considered The Tetrapod.

No one, that is, but The Sunset Tree. Over those fourteen hours, fading in and out of consciousness, holding onto the sink and my soul, I listened to that album over and over and over again.

Around 11:30 I started to throw up. Note that word, started. For the next 14 hours straight I would be vomiting. Despite being with three dozen other kids, I had no one to call. I had recently escaped an abusive relationship by the skin of my sanity. I had no one.

True to my word to the doc, I didn't over do it. I had a beer with dinner, and a shot of whiskey around 10pm. Around 11 I started to feel cold. Very cold.

Three days later I left for Toronto with a large gaggle of college students for "cultural exchange." Namely, discovering how many times 19 year olds can be teased by bartenders for crossing the border to drink. Note: don't do this kids.

"Yeah sure but be careful, don't drink a bottle of whiskey or anything." Boy howdy was he wrong.

That (early) spring, I had unfortunately contracted a minor staph infection in my ear. I was on antibiotics to treat it. Like a responsible kid I checked with the prescribing physician to make sure I could drink on it.

I think everyone has had a The Mountain Goats moment. Mine came at 12:30am in Toronto Ontario, in the spring of 2016.

I mean that with every scrap of love in my heart. The most meaningful, influential, and weird artists in every scene are just Some Guys (gender neutral) who are a little weirder than respectable company can accept.

Losing it over this photo of neutral milk hotel. I know each one of these guys, every art scene in western MA has at least two. I've illegally camped with all of them. The one in the back gave me five of my most treasured tattoos. I'm related to 3 of em. Nearly started a wildfire with the first.

On leaving things Several weeks ago, on June 18th, 2025, I put everything (most everything) I owned into a uhaul and then crammed the rest into a subaru outback and my mom’s rented SUV.

open.substack.com/pub/darkroom...
Wrote a lil thingydo about moving away from the world I knew, and why that was necessary.

This weekend I watched two of my dear friends get married. This morning I watched my cat shit on the floor and try to bury it in my internet cable.

Normally I don't encourage "just concede bro" as a strategy but this is just getting out early to avoid the pain. Death with dignity. I'd be out so fast.

You're clearly unwell and I'm not gonna play games rn.

What in God's name

Do you have any uncles you can sick on em? This is an uncle job.

My beloved partner: Hitting the high note in Queen's Who Wants to Live Forever
The car: Hitting the rumble strip
Me, freshly awakened: I would.

On the contrary I am deeply impressed with the quality and depth of your work

Men will say "I'm not artistic at all" and then post 15 references they've studied for hours while painting Warhammer figures with a collection of tools that makes my camera closet look budget conscious.

I listened to 30 different versions of Amazing Grace across three platforms and it was the *second one* on Spotify.

It was Judy Collins

So if your autism involves old gospel hymns and specific recordings and arrangements please come at me and help.

It started with one tenor singing the first few verses and then slowly worked an entire choir into the back of it until it was practically booming. As someone with more than a passing obsession with the sacred harp, that's exciting! But I've *never heard it before.*