In an effort to go undetected, I wore a black hat today. I spoke with colleagues, shared excitement and condolences where appropriate, and on the way home, I listened to The Brook and The Bluff’s “Don’t Worry Baby,” synced with the train platforms passing by as every song always is when it’s time to reflect. Faces blurred like graphite smudged along an infinite line.

I wrote this in the spring when I was 24 (I’m 25 now).

I’m sitting on the bus, in the very back, where everyone who strove to be cool either sat or wanted to sit but never mustered up the courage.

Even unpleasant surprises are better than predictable monotony, because at least they’ll leave you with a story to tell and a distinct impression to look back on.