Elan Morgan is a writer and web designer who works from Elan.Works, a designer and editor at GenderAvenger, and a speaker who has spoken across North America. They believe in and work to grow both personal and professional quality, genuine community, and meaningful content online.


My friend, Frances, found this note in the vestibule of an automatic teller in Cosmopolis this past spring. I have been carrying it around in my jeans pockets since then. I take it out and read it every few weeks when I have a few unoccupied moments waiting for the bus or sitting in a café. The paper has grown softer from wear.

sad note 1

sad note 2

A list of things relating to university biology classes accompanied this note, which throws me back more than a few years. Reading the note reminds me of hot-knifing (smoking hash off hot knives) in my boyfriend's kitchen, leafing Kahlil Gibran, and then waxing philosophical with people who thought that two university classes in philosophy gave them depth. Phrases such as yeah man and I know, I know, I know exaaaaactly what you mean played an important role in our consciousness expansion.

I hope this person was merely on an introspective trip. If not, I wish her well.

Stuff like this makes me so fucking happy to be in my thirties. Maybe that's why I keep reading this note over and over. Knowing I am not that anymore makes me all the more happy to be this.

One thing I am sure of is that even when I was all broody and stoned, I always made more sense than this person. I am sure of it, because how can you wallow and not give a damn, or be "...blinded by visions of imperfections, [sic] to the extent that [you] only see the norm"?

The more I think about it the more I am convinced that babies, children, and teenagers are simply afflicted with an acute illness that disappears in adulthood.

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