I reached the summit.
I did it. Finally.
I look, but no one is around.
I am accomplished.
I am isolated.
I am Cone Alone.
I reached the summit.
I did it. Finally.
I look, but no one is around.
I am accomplished.
I am isolated.
I am Cone Alone.
I am trying to make sure you move forward, not backward.
(Not that time is a linear move toward progress. That narrative is misguided.)
I want you to learn from your mistakes and move toward care, compassion and community.
I think you can do better.
I am rooting for you.
I am Cone Alone.
What was it like outside?
What was it like before this?
I want to be on the other side.
I am Cone Alone.
We are six feet apart.
But we are in this together.
Aren’t we?
I miss your touch.
I am Cone Alone.
This is the last time I carpool to work.
I am Cone Alone.
These new security measures are low-tech, but highly effective.
I really should have just paid my fare.
I think I learned my lesson.
I am Cone Alone.
You try to help a stranger and this is what happens.
I am stuck.
I helped no one.
I am Cone Alone.
I have a name, but no place.
Discarded. Tossed and lost.
Wrapped in cords and afforded no dignity.
I am Cone Alone.
I used to have friends.
I like to pretend they were swept away in the endless currents of life, taking us all on different paths of career, adventure and family.
If I’m honest, they probably left because I was always talking trash.
I am Cone Alone.
You left this morning.
I tried to stop you in your tracks.
But you had to go.
I am Cone Alone.