I’ve been thinking about putting together this dumb little newsletter for a while. I’m finally writing it now because I have nothing better to do. Perhaps you have nothing better to do than read it. I read Jan Morris’ Sydney the other week and one of its final paragraphs stuck with me. Morris is sitting in a Kings Cross café, observing how young and happy everyone looks, when:
Thank god we aren't the rest of the world
Thank god we aren't the rest of the world
Thank god we aren't the rest of the world
I’ve been thinking about putting together this dumb little newsletter for a while. I’m finally writing it now because I have nothing better to do. Perhaps you have nothing better to do than read it. I read Jan Morris’ Sydney the other week and one of its final paragraphs stuck with me. Morris is sitting in a Kings Cross café, observing how young and happy everyone looks, when: