I missed everything that had been formerly dear to me. Politics, old friends, art that was meaningful to me, mentees, my job as an apprentice butcher, all my previous loves... an existence that had some form of substance.

The past year had been a flurry of activity, and very exciting—I had learned a lot, been exposed to many things, had enjoyed the many conversations with various people in tech start-up and Web3 circles. It was an invaluable learning experience. But, when it came to the old conversations I would have about literature, art, and life experiences with young people and others, when it came to relaxing after work under the mulberry tree, watching the squirrels, enjoying the serenity of the church courtyard... Biking up and down along the arroyo, peppertrees scenting the air, exploring paths left untouched by urban California’s car-trapped population.

I missed so much. I missed colour.

I wondered how my former mentee was doing. Was he happy...? Was he safe? Was he still getting along with his mother? And his friends...