Your house being air conditioned in a hot summer.

Overcast cloudy days that won’t stop raining.

Underneath a pile of things on your desk, you find that thing you were searching for.

Dogs that let you scratch their bellies.

Oregon’s speed limits are too slow.

Noodles cooked just right.

The way you walk out of a room.

Never feeling fully awake.

Everyone else here’s sense of humor isn’t funny.

Everyone here is such a conformist.

Damn this makes me uncomfortable.

My patience will be the death of me.

Only seeing you when you pop up on my facebook.

Never getting any mail except for junk.

Everything feeling like the end of the world.

You and I go to a movie.

Ocean clouds.

Responding to someone’s text too late.

Smelling someone else’s armpits.

Embarrassing yourself but not giving a hoot.

Little ants crawling on your legs.

Forgiving yourself for mistakes.

Investigating your sexuality.

Sometimes not being able to remember why you do it.

Helping yourself get through the day.

Telling yourself to be more spontaneous.

Holding onto things you should let go of.

Internalizing the quirks of your friends.

Now is the time to be with people.

Going to the store to buy someone a birthday present.

Sleepovers from middle school.

Listening to the troubles of a friend.

Our bodies are all beautiful, even if we have pimples or are skinny or fat.

Volunteer fire departments.

Ending a conversation with a high five.

Texting and driving is dangerous.

Hello it’s me: Jack Swain.

Everyone can create beautiful things.

Perhaps it’s time I told you everything.

Emotions come and go all the time, just like everything.

Over-the-top weddings on the moon.

Peeing in your pants from laughing so hard.

Little moments you share with your pet.

Eating the last girl scout cookie.

Apple scruffs, by George Harrison

Respect how much effort went into building your house.

Observe the way trees do their thing.

Underline things in library books if they speak to you.

Now the florist is overcome with tulips.

Driving to a second date.

Young people are getting ideas.

Only you.

I had a dream I went to the animal shelter and adopted every single animal. I had a dream that I had to walk down a sidewalk, and the sidewalk had broken glass on it. I cut my feet and left bloody footprints up and down the block. It didn’t hurt, but when I woke up, my feet itched.

It’s hard for me to write things sometimes, because I don’t feel like I have anything to offer you. Do you ever have that problem with the stuff you make? It’s the same as thinking “why would anyone want to hang out with me?” And like, why do people make anything at all? Is it just to make themselves feel cool, or is there something else going on? I really don’t have an answer for that. But I hope you are having a good evening, wherever you are.