Letter from the Editor
I’m writing you because it’s too easy to fall out of touch, with friends or family or your own body. Like looking into the mirror and seeing yourself but in a different hue, de-saturated from this all encompassing doubt and fear of that stubborn ‘unknown’. Since I was 17 this is where I came to talk—shout, really—even if there's just one person out there listening, here is where I always feel heard. There's kindof a lot of you now, more and more by the day which is confusing and stunning and amazing all at once. So I want to fill everyone in, in my own cryptic sort of way. We have been working on something big, so big it terrifies me to my core. I find myself saying ‘this has to be the best thing we ever make’, a saying that has me tripping over my own feet again and again. Cause the best thing should always be the next thing, at least that's how I like to see it. An endless and tumultuous growth, not the filling of a pail. I sit here and glare at all this time I have and try to figure out what to do with it, when instead I should try and find how this will make me better. So I’m choosing to trust the process, believe that along the way there will be lessons upon lessons to learn. Maybe this balancing act of keeping the zine exciting while also working on this project will teach me patience, obedience, even. This is the one place I know I have to tell myself the whole truth, so maybe I’ll learn how to stop running away from my one form of release. There are probably a million new morals hidden in the corners of this experience that I can pick up on, but lets take it one day at a time, yeah? So I hope everyone is staying soft, when this is over we'll we need your hearts just as tender as before. And I hope you're learning new forms of radical empathy, and not losing yourself in all this change or letting that looming sense of too much time weigh on them too heavy. All my love, you have it.
- Trinity.