HeyJaredCollecting Thoughts
My personal Substack of my diverse range of interests. Expect reading recommendations, sociocultural essays with philosophical flair, formalist close readings, and takes on the state of contemporary culture and politics.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 13
- Latest publication
- Sep 27, 2026
- Audience
- Checking…
- Earliest in this view
- Aug 8, 2026
Latest issues
These Empty City Lights (opens the original)
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Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedThese empty city lights — Trailing the winding paths I trail and wander — I know not where it ends — this fever. These myriad city lights — All so sleepless and nausea-begone, Sterile and drowning in the darkness white. These unresponsive city lights — In the frozen valley of dead and old. Nothing ever moves in the dizzying cold. These empty city lights — The dead have all grown numb and thin In the lonely hollows of the nig
Myriads Lost (opens the original)
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Myriads of broken stars, suspended far aboveIn the endless, frozen night;Scattered in the cold; disheveled, wandering alone —I wonder what these strangers are waiting so still and sleepless for.Tysmmm for reading Mlle Jacinthe !!! I have no sense of stability in life other than my blog . . .<a class="button primary" href="https://readmoreliterarytheory.substack.com/p/myriads-lost?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&a
La Vagabonde (opens the original)
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A lost plushy drags itself to lie down, stiff and sore,broken on the cold nightstand.It looks out upon the tender shadows of the empty roomand presses a hand into its still beating heart.Tysm for reading Mlle Jacinthe!!! I don’t have a sense of stability in life other than my little blog . . . <a class="button primary" href="https://readmoreliterarytheory.substack.com/p/la-vagabonde?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share
Rain (opens the original)
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The cold rain that rains deep tears inside my heart ;Why does it still go on . . .When I have nothing left to wash away ? . . .ShareSubscribe now
Alone and All Too Sober (opens the original)
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Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedAnd so I face the rushing nausea of the world, alone and all too sober. And when the silent moon rises, over the daytime world, I sit with the lingering nausea in my heart, alone and all too sober.Tysm for reading Mlle Jacinthe ! I don’t have a sense of stability in life other than blogging. . .<a class="button primary" href="https://
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