Chasing shadows across the streets, neon signs beginning to look too timeless to be real, my paragraphs are walking barefoot next to the side of a highway, lost in the sound of a voice it doesn’t quite remember. To compensate, I stay up excruciatingly late learning a contemporary calligraphy designed for my favourite of the things my last boyfriend worked on – an L.A. based Alice in Wonderland music video, its director born in Vienna, that features English couture, shot-for-shot rips-off Czechoslovakian stop-motion art direction and starring a woman appropriating Japanese Harajuku culture, (a reassembling of American/English fashion) – just so I can write a four word letter and mail it to next month. It’s a toss-up, either I need new hobbies or I’m just continuing my life out of habit, going through the motions because they’re so deeply ingrained, doing things because they seem like the sort of thing I would do. Neither option particularly comforts me at three a.m., when I keep myself busy with these preposterous things.