SCARY COOL SAD GOODBYE 65
Bounding toward nowhere toward nothing towards America.
“I’m just a bum,” said Fin when I asked him how he’d like to be introduced. I don’t know how it was that I came across his Twitter, only that the algorithm’s gotten to know me very well, to the point where I’m confused when my friends say the “For You” page serves them non-stop porn and weird political slop; all I see are sunsets over gas stations, forest creatures caught on trail cam, and very interesting people who seem to share with me a certain patriotic wanderlust. Fin posts photos from his travels around the country — sublime, magical images of his days sleeping in fields, swimming in rivers, and riding freight trains back and forth across America. Where he is going or why or with whom is never quite clear, nor his age, as he appears at once quite young and ancient. I didn’t want answers to these questions, only to hear more about his Terrence Malick movie life, and he kindly obliged. What follows is a dispatch typed on an old Olivetti typewriter in an old wooden house in upstate New York, so he says, though he also admits to being a liar, as well as some recent photos taken along the way.
Follow Fin on Twitter at @La__Martre
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