Small edit

portfolio/dirt.html

@@ -141,8 +141,8 @@ <h2>and dirt</h2>
                             <p>I often think about some of the house plants I’ve killed over the years. They would grow so tall to the point of collapsing over themselves, stretching towards that distant ball of hot plasma beyond the glass windows of my apartment.</p>
                             <p>Cheap soil, tap water, and sunlight; I would watch them grow to new heights, gradually shrivel, and die. I neglected the dirt– roots, fertilizer, soil properties– until it was too late.</p>
                             <p>Just like my houseplants, I fear I frayed myself apart for growth; to find and be of value to people who represented an ideal, so that I may round upwards through their influence.</p>
-                            <p>In doing so, I neglected my roots. The dirt. The people who knew me for who I am, stripped of accomplishment. As I felt myself collapsing over myself, I thought myself as unsupported, but I wasn’t. I just didn’t reach out.</p>
-                            <p>Is the average of my friends a designer's working “ideal”?</p>
+                            <p>In doing so, I neglected my roots. The dirt. The people who knew me for who I am, stripped of accomplishment. As I began to collapse over myself, I thought I was unsupported, but I wasn’t. I just didn't reach out yet.</p>
+                            <p>Is the average of the friends I reconnected with a designer's working “ideal”?</p>
                             <p>Nope.</p>
                             <p>Will they optimize my life for measurable wealth, career, and growth?</p>
                             <p>Nope.</p>