The Midwest goodbye is a celebrated tradition of taking forever to leave someplace you’ve been invited. The host does not wish for you to leave, and the guest does not wish to go.
It starts in the living room.
“Weeeeelp,” you drawl, slapping your knee. “It’s ’bout that time.”
The conversation moves to the kitchen, then the entryway. Before you know it, an hour and a half of visiting has passed, and oh you might as well try some dessert, and oh take this before you go.
Similarly, I feel like I’m at the end of a very long Midwest goodbye with the things I once held onto. But it’s time to get in the car and drive on home.
Crying Out in the Wilderness
I have deactivated and reactivated Twitter a bunch lately. This time, I hope it sticks. With any luck, you won’t hear from me on Twitter ever again.
For future updates from me, consider subscribing at:
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For now, I still post photos on Instagram (dchanimaya).
You can find my music at SoundCloud.com/bionicmime, and (eventually) bandcamp.com/bionicmime
My hope is we get to know each other better this way.
Thank You
If you are here, I appreciate you. My whole life I have wished to make something worthy of you.
Darlene
Darlene ChaniMaya Postma 
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