Augustine hated sex because he knew he was apt to distort it, and I hate my phone just the same. It should really be a very good thing. But I hate it because I know all the ways I don’t use it right. I don’t use it to FaceTime my grandma; I use it to scroll Yahoo until I find a headline that excites me. I don’t use it to extend my ability to connect with other humans; I use it to take quizzes about which Star Wars character I would be. Look, man: I don’t want to tech-shame. B
IF I WERE TO WRITE A MEMOIR ABOUT BEING A DAD, it would begin, like any creation story, with an inky darkness. Which is to say it would start at Brightstars, four doors down the hall, the moment he reminded me to teach my daughter to share and it hit me that was the first time in 23 years he’d tried reminding me of anything and neither of us had the dimmest clue how to be a father nor how to be fathered. I’ve heard it said that those knocking at the door of brothels are uncon
Truth is, yeah, I am feeling pretty clueless about being a dad. Whatever fatherhood is, it assumes the office-holder has something to give. Whether total or partial, personal or practical, it supposes itself to be a kind of answer to the question that we are. But, honestly, I'm much more question than answer at this point. Even trying to write about fatherhood feels embarrassing and futile. What the hell do I know about fatherhood? I don’t have any pretenses. I don’t know wha
I'm just trev.
I'm a 23-year old trying to make beauty out of life's raw stuff. I post stuff every Tuesday.