life is a crying baby

a little thing i made

Hi. If you’re reading this, I did it

i released this thing out into the world. that itself is a W.

But if you’re reading this, you’re probably wondering - what...is this?

what this…is

life is a crying baby is a container I made to hold my little ideas and thoughts for a specific duration of time - Nov 15 2025 - Dec 13 2025.

To get access, sign up at the link above and you’ll get each entry - 58 in total - emailed to you over the course of the next month at the same relative point when I wrote them:

why?

Up till now, I’ve just thrown everything into a giant database that gets lost and forgotten. With this limited time thing, I figured, I’d have an end date AND could create something out of it.

This is that something.

In it, you’ll find random thoughts and diatribes, tiny wins and little lies.

There’s drafts of essays I’ll maybe publish one day, there’s my wrestling with trying not to smoke weed, there’s a letter I wrote to substack, and there’s also one idea I think is genuinely genius.

But more so than any of the content, the form itself is the thing - a sketch of my mind that’s boring, profound, and, upon reflection, meaningful.

and yet

And yet, now, here I am, at the threshold of release and I feel frozen. No, worse, I feel like this is stupid beyond measure and unworthy of sharing. Dumb and self-involved, useless and a waste of not just my time but all time, everywhere.

This is part of the process, of course, and it’s why I feel the need to release. To get it out there. That word - release - it’s perfect. It’s what this is. A release. An exhale. A moving through and moving on.

In one of the notes, I wrote that it “Feels like I’m not listening to my creative team (past me) by just ignoring them.”

I don’t want to ignore my creative team. I want to listen to them because I am them.

So without further eryka badu, here it is.

If life is a crying baby, we are all its parents.

The least we can do, then, is look and see and say
‘wow that is amazing’
and realize, to our own surprise,
that we really mean it.

Love y’all, for real.

Alex