I have really good intentions
really, I promise!
Here I am performing my one woman show. I’m dancing and twirling and softly humming, slightly off key, very off beat. I’m following the rhythm of my spirit but the rhythm of my spirit genuflects to the rhythm of my senses, and my senses aren’t quite in the mood to dance, or to twirl, or even to hum! My senses want to curl up & be muted- both in shades & in sounds.
Lately I’ve found that if I’m not sharing my bed curled up with a familiar body adjacent to mine, I’m settling for sharing the precious space with a heaping pile of My Things. I haven’t had a bed to myself in quite some time it seems. I type this while flat on my back in corpse pose, my phone held up an inch above my face, my eyes straining as I type. Scattered on my bedding you can find my laptop, my water bottle, yesterdays laundry, my purse, a notebook, my passport, my wallet & a litany of more stray items that are acting as a stand in for a human companion. I can’t sleep alone. If it’s not my people, it’s my things, & today it’s my things. Shoving everything to one side of my mattress to burrow myself deeper within my blankets. Faint speckles of sunshine work their way through the vines covering my windows & polka dot my sheets with light. I’m being a highly-functioning zombie right now. Realized that constantly overloading my senses with new information serves as maybe the-best-distraction from my Bitch Thoughts. Having an overload of Bitch Thoughts right now, so I’m practicing harm reduction. Distracting myself from self reflection by instead engaging in the self soothing of constantly being around: other people and things. I have so much stimulation that I lack any time or space to think about anything. I think I found the cure! It consists of: a sleepover with Garrett then with Amelie then with ****** then with my laundry for 3 days then with Ruby & Amelie then with Amelie again then with my laundry again.
All this sunlight would crawl in through my windows before I left for my backpacking trip, and my bedroom was drenched in light bouncing off the walls. Well I got back home and it’s just pitch black in here 24/7 now. I can make out a clear blue sky peeking through the thick foliage out the window. I see the opportunity for light, it’s just barely out of my reach. Metaphor? Like, maybe. I see the opportunity for light but it’s just barely out of my reach. Okay, whatever. DTM. Doing Too Much. Realized I’ve been DTM lately. Need to chill. I take things too seriously and get all existential and get all sentimental, and it just never needs to be that serious.
My bedroom serves as a constant reminder that when I leave my bedroom and enter the world, the light shines through. It’s so hard for me to leave my bedroom. I bring others into my bedroom and it feels like I’m dragging them down to my level. I do everything from bed right now. I write from bed, I edit from bed, I see my friends in my bed. When Amelie came over last, we didn’t leave my bed for 2 days straight, only stepping out of the house to walk to get food, walk to get coffees, back home & back to my bed. It’s dangerous, this king sized bed. It’s gonna cause king sized problems for me with the way it just beckons me to lie down and hide from World. Hidden from the sun, hidden from my responsibilities, hidden from the present moment.
Acting in functionally depressed ways. Zombie Lady. I don’t like to label myself as a depressed person because I am scared for that to manifest as Truth. Words are important because they shape my reality, so while yes I am curled up with a pile of laundry or with a friend every night, I am also perfectly fine, better than fine really some might say that I am On Top Of The World.
Crawled out of bed and stacked my miscellaneous bed belongings in a careful pile on the floor. I make my bed every morning and move the pile from floor to bed to floor to bed accordingly. It works for me.
10:48am. Walking towards the bus that will transport me to the Goodwill. I didn’t check the schedule ‘cause I thought to myself, “It’ll come when it comes.” It never comes when I want it to, so I like to not disappoint myself by not looking.
A nice turn of events, the bus came the second I arrived at the stop, the vehicle empty sans the driver & I. I’ve developed a nasty habit of chewing on my lips and my face gets all twisted in concentration trying to get the perfect sliver of flesh between my teeth.
My skin is unwashed and unmoisturized. My hair has been in the same low bun for the past 3 days, surely matted and clumped together by now. When I don’t take care of myself I feel like a puppy at a shelter, my body gets shaky and my eyes look sorrowful & my hair matts together. I have not been taking care of myself so all three of these things are true right now, but I am going to turn this around.
I miss Florida I miss Florida I miss Florida.
Need to snap out of that. I am feeling Florida blues because my friends are opening up for my favorite band this weekend (Sword II) and I want to make this event about me in my head despite it having essentially nothing to do with me.
I’m hitting the one year mark of living in New York, and I haven’t been home since moving. I didn’t come home for Christmas or Thanksgiving or my birthday, but friends opening for Sword II? That feels like the perfect excuse. Going home sounds like both my own personal hell & my current strongest desire. The thought of going back to all these familiar bars & venues & faces & spaces. I miss these things so dearly but I don’t feel ready to face them. So this is making me face my bed, my New York room with a permanent 5 o clock shadow. Face burrowed within the pillows, body nestled beneath a pile of laundry. Trying very hard to hide as far away as I can, but there’s no escaping the present. I love this bus ride to the goodwill. I used to take the train which would be aggravating and 3 train transfers and a dreadful commute, but the bus spits me out exactly where I need to go, and I get to just sit here, above ground with outlets and AC. I do typically have to pay the fare on the bus, but this feels like a justifiable use of $3. Get to pass by New York suburbs full of charm & life.
Listening to the radio as I type. On an NTS kick right now, want to eventually switch to mostly radio instead of streaming. Currently listening to Not Waving, a London artist with 6k streams on Spotify.
Want to have more discernment with the music that I listen to. Have been on a total pop music stint the past few weeks. So much Olivia Rodrigo has been making its way into my ears. Too much Olivia Rodrigo. I like the chick but it’s like
Got interrupted by a text from a friend from home. Kismet. Okay wow. She said come visit!!! You can stay with me!!! I want to visit and stay with her. I love her dearly. I want to come home, I want to come home, I think I should come home this weekend.
That was the best trip to the goodwill I have had since moving to New York. I found my new favorite article of clothing I am so sure. Reminds of me this Ganni dress I have newly hyperfixated on. Have never really been one to care about fashion in that sense, everything I own is from the goodwill or Brandy Melville but now with New Job, I am thinking about Ganni and Mirror Palais and Japanese Designers. I’ve never worked a non restaurant job before. Well non-restaurant and non-classroom. I miss teaching. Teaching was the Best Job Ever. I miss being told that I am naturally gifted at something. I miss feeling naturally gifted at something. Now everything requires effort.
Well anyways the perfect dress of my dreams is now in my possession, so now nothing else matters. I love when shopping cures all woes.
I am so happy, I am so happy, I am so happy. Can’t believe I’ve been depressed all week. All it took was the dress of my dreams to snap me out of that one. Also found so much Reformation & Skims & Anthropologie & Free People & true vintage & 100% Cotton & 100% silk & 100% cashmere & %100 perfect vibes.
Felt bad because Girl Roommate invited me to hang out with her and Boy Roommate in the backyard last night and I said “That sounds so fun! Maybe” And then I slipped out the front door down the stairs and towards the nearest dive bar to avoid actually doing that. Sat at my 2nd favorite dive bar in my neighborhood which gives you a free hot dog with every drink. (My first favorite gives you a free slice of pizza with every drink). (New York bars are the best thing ever). Picking my favorite dive bar based off the amount of free I can acquire rather than the actual vibe of the bar itself isn’t lost on me. To be fair both bars have gorgeously pleasant vibes. Hotdog bar is objectively better but I just would typically prefer a slice of pizza & a pint of Guinness. At the hot dog bar I consumed 2 rum & cokes, 1 hot dog, & a bowl of popcorn and tapped my card for $7 plus tip. It’s my heaven on earth & my sweet escape from the concept of hanging out with my roommates and their partners in the backyard watching the knicks game. I like my roommates and their partners, I just would rather not be third wheeling. I joked this sentiment to Girl Roommate and she replied, “just bring Amelie!”
I liked being on the run and escaping all my problems, but now I’m frozen & paralyzed and committed to things and indebted to things in New York and I feel stuck. I want to keep going, keep running, keep hiding. Feel so petulant in the city.
Running shields me from self pity & self doubt and self destruction & focusing on Self really, because there’s no time for any of those distractions, just just gotta keep going. Now I have time for my distractions and I’ve let myself indulge too heavily, took a hit too many of distraction & guilt & obsession and now I’m an origami swan open & flat on a table, all my creases exposed.
Like fate, Ruby, Amelie & I texted each other in synchronized unison with our afternoon updates.
Ruby: has a new crush, the barista at the coffee shop she frequents
Amelie: hates her evil therapist who she just got off the phone with
I: just purchased a pretty dress at the Goodwill
Home from the bins & catching up with Boy Roommate in the kitchen for a bit. Made myself another double shot of espresso over almond milk. Last night I went to the grocery store and deliberated in the aisle for what felt like a century, trying to figure out what milk to get. Could get almond or oat or soy or dairy or creamer or a flavored creamer or neither or everything. Settled on almond milk. Almond breeze to be exact. Back to my high school roots. Felt nostalgic. Went to a Dunkin’ with Amelie yesterday and watched her order an iced drip coffee with whole milk & I asked her why she orders this as opposed to like, anything else, and she said it’s comforting & nostalgic and reminds her of her mom. So now I’m influenced and I’m drinking a latte that’s comforting and nostalgic and reminds me of my mom.
Sophomore year of high school, I had a bimbo psych teacher who was a recent college graduate. I thought that she was a little evil because she would flirt too much with the seniors, but she told us that whenever she felt anxious she would pop an Advil and reasoned that: since it’s a full body pain reliever, it can also relieve your body of anxiety & depression. Kinda a crazy rhetoric to screw to young malleable minds, because now adult me takes an Advil whenever I am anxious and I think of her and I call her a dumb bimbo in my head before I swallow. Like I actively chastise her and think to myself, yeah that possibly can’t be true, but I follow her word anyways. What does that say about me? The Advil/ anxiety theory is probably untrue, but it still makes me feel better anyways on a psychosomatic level. I get some relief. Her theory probably holds no merit, but it’s Pavlov’d me into when I feel like shit, my mouth waters for an Advil. So that’s what I’m doing now, I’m popping two Advils and calling her a bimbo in my head.
Two thoughts I have been having lately: 1. I think my friends like me a lot better single. 2. I think I’m a much more likable person in general, single.
I just remember running over to Ella at the bar and wrapping my arms around her from behind and the way her hands reached up to grasp mine on instinct and how the love just shone in her eyes in a way that felt so new and unfamiliar, and it made me feel grief stricken in that moment. Such a sweet, harmless moment but the intrusive thought: it should’ve always been like this, but it’s only now become like this. Percolating in my head.
Sitting at the public library biding time after getting coffee with a new friend. We both ordered matches and my drink was $9. Wanted to shrivel up a bit but tapped my card and sat down at the table where she was waiting for me. We are instagram mutuals with a lot of random shared mutuals, so I DM’d her, Hi, do you want to be friends? And she said Yes so now we are graduating from instagram mutuals to a Real Life Friendship. Love the graduation from internet to real life. Have participated in this dance x3 this week and had a 3/3 success rate. Some of my closest long term relationships started on the internet. She had a thick valley girl accent and told me a story about how she bumped into Ellis the other day out in Bushwick. He tapped me on my shoulder and said “I know you!” And we talked for maybe 45 seconds before he pivoted and speed walked away. She said between laughter. That tracks, I responded.
My eyes are bothering me from the contacts I have in em. I wear daily’s but I stretch out the length of them into weekly’s, into however long my eyes can manage blinking into the tiny pieces of plastic before protesting and becoming angry with me. Had a friend who had a drug-induced mental breakdown that I bore witness to in college and she kept repeating and wailing, MY EYES ARE SO ANGRY WITH ME. No more ketamine for her after that.
My eyes are currently angry at me for more innocuous reasons (abusing my contacts) but I’m asking for forgiveness by letting them look at pretty sights. The pretty sight in question is the world outside my Girl Cave. Slipping out of my dimly lit dungeon with all my scattered belongings to face the World, and let myself experience more of her, let my eyes witness more. How can my eyes possibly still be mad at me when I’m letting them bear witness to a perfect New York City summer day? It’s a perfect New York City summer day and I feel like maybe the happiest girl in the world. Can’t take this moment for granted for a second because soon the heat will be sweltering and I will be drenched in my perspiration but today, for now, the sun is smiling and so am I.
I’m slinking up masbeth on the Q58, on my way to the goodwill. Again. My unemployed girl tendencies. Technically employed, but my start date is not until next week at New Friend’s job and I need quick cash today, so to the Goodwill I go. Too old to be acting this way, I think to myself. Too old for Depop debauchery. For this new job. New Friend is older than me but it still feels different when I do it. Pathetic when I do it. We’re capable of so much more, I think to myself. My friends and I, we’re capable of so much more, so why are we doing these jobs we don’t want to do? Can’t tell if it is a step backwards. This new job. Can’t tell if it’s a leap forward. Can’t tell, can’t tell, can’t tell. Nothing sounds like the right decision right now because I want to do Everything and also Nothing. I looked up from typing this to see my location, to see if I need to get off the bus soon. I glanced out the window and I make direct eye contact with the name of my friend from high school who passed away. I see his name often, it’s a very common name, but I still always take it as a good omen when I do. Today the three letters are situated above a mechanics shop. The A is faded and hanging crookedly.
Today I received two emails for two brand deals, and they sound very, very tempting. One I cannot do because the Internet would be mad at me. I would be mad at me. It is for an AI platform (Rhymes with Brammerly) and they offered me an exorbitant amount of money. More money than I would make in a week of working a Real Job, just to do a 45 second ad read. I don’t want to be an influencer but I want money. I don’t want a Real Job either. I don’t know what I want, but I need quick cash. I don’t use AI and I can’t do the AI brand deal, but another brand deal, for vitamins, is also lurking in my inbox. Vitamins, I do indulge in. The vitamins pay less than the AI but I think that I know what the right course of action here is.
I scurried down the steps into the train hall ‘cause I heard a train whistling into the station, but it was going in the opposite direction of the train I need to take. I am going to a cafe to meet up with my friends for Lyn’s birthday. It’s Gemini season. Gemini season makes me feel crazed, but I’m persevering. I guess. Having the urge to piss myself but I need to be at the cafe in 10 minutes so I am clenching my pelvic floor.
Sitting on the train now. Turnstile on a loop in my headphones. Meer days away from my one year anniversary of living in the city, and I’m taken back to what my life looked like this time last year. Lots of Turnstile and indecision. Some things don’t change.
Checked Lyn’s location and they’re still at home, despite the cafe we are meeting at being a 30 minute commute from us, and the time on the clock reading 10:52 am. They said to meet at the cafe at 11. Gemini’s. I can always count on my friends to run on a ~ 20 minute buffer which is nice at times but also I don’t know when to draw the line at others. God I love this song, I can’t even type I need to just sit here with my eyes closed.
Stoned with Amelie, parallel on her couch while we watch Love Island. Stoned & eating her new hyper fixation snack, these millennial coded rice cake crackers we purchase at the Deli when we hang out.
Tonight I learned that I got the group chat name Single and Vulnerable from Love Island. Kinda thought that I came up with the term for whatever reason.
Walking to the train home from Amelie’s house. We had another sleepover (I can’t bear to be alone right now). I cleared the dishes piled up in her sink and tried to clear the cups in her room but she wouldn’t let me. We took out her trash but she said no to the recycling. Baby steps. I woke up anxious from reality and she woke up anxious from a nightmare. Yesterday I told her, “I’m nervous that I’m latching onto you in the way that I would latch onto redacted.” Neglecting all my other relationships once I get really attached to one person, and I’ve made that person you and I really don’t want to act this way. I don’t want to act this way but I’m acting this way so I woke up feeling sick about my current decisions. Sick & ashamed that last night I commuted by train an hour to get to her apartment, the thought of spending the night alone feeling inconceivable. The hypocrisy of hitting upload on a video about being alone while 10 feet away from another person. I left sooner than expected this morning because I got in my head about my strange actions, and now I’m typing this on the train, pit in my stomach and the words why do I act the way I act running on a loop through my brain.
Why do I act the way I act? Why do I keep making the same wrong decisions? I know better, or at least I thought I did. I told myself I wouldn’t do this anymore after my breakup with redacted, and now here I am finding myself doing this again but with Amelie this time. Need to stop. Leaving now. Nipping this in the bud now.
My romantic relationships and my friendships are on equal footing. I had this conversation with an old friend and we were on the same page that all relationships feel equal, the only difference is I am not having sex with my friends.
Standing outside of a liquor store eating a slice of pizza, waiting for Ruby & Amelie to make their purchases of the night. They walked out holding a brown paper bag containing an extra large shooter of tequila, and we then migrated back to Ruby’s house. Another sleepover!
Todays Mantras To Keep a Chick Sane
I have good intentions
Time goes on & new people will love me
Time heals all wounds & I will love new people
My kindness is not an act
The past no longer exists
I feel very incapable of dating/ romance right now. No part of me cares to date or to experience romance. This feels so foreign. I’m supposed to go on a date with this guy *****, who I met at my friend’s party last night. Currently ignoring his texts and preemptively dreading tomorrow. My eyes are so itchy. Need to switch out my contacts soon. I am so tired from todays events. Two children with backpacks are looking out the train window with glee, pointing at the buildings with awe. Very sweet.
I burnt my hand in three places yesterday- the pads of my thumb & pointer and then the flesh below the knuckle on my thumb. Ruby came over post-incident and the first story out of her mouth was that she just burnt a large pot of black beans that stunk up her entire apartment so badly that she had to chuck the pot in the trash. My burns occurred because I attempted to take a bowl of soup out of the oven, but forgot about the fact that it was, ya know, in the oven, and I kinda charred my fingertips. Charred is too strong of a word. They’re blistered and an eye sore. I thought that my grievances were over but then I started to curl my hair and I burnt the flesh below the knuckle on my thumb too, the skin down to its last layer, pink & bubbled over.
I feel sad and a bit regretful for not going home for the show tomorrow. Felt like the perfect opportunity for me to go home & it felt like a sign, but as I was hovering over the purchase button on the plane tickets, I just couldn’t do it. It won’t make any difference if I am there or not. The thought of going home and seeing my friends and family makes me feel soooo sick and horrible and I just would rather not feel sick or horrible.
The summer heat is clashing with the fragile biome of my skin and as a result I’m breaking out severely around my jaw. It’s 8:17 am and I have a pilates class at 9. Still need to get up and have coffee and brush my teeth and pick out my outfit but right now it is imperative that I lay here curled up on my side like a baby while I claw grip this pen I write with.
At yoga last night during shavasana I had a freak out and startled myself because I accidentally started drifting off when it got so quiet and dark in the room. Woke up in a frenzied daze and in an effort to self-soothe I began to list off everyones names, spelling them out and repeating this until the quiet stillness was over. Everyone was so quiet and still lying flat on their mats and I was mouthing with shaky breaths, M-A-X, E-L-L-A, H-E-N-R-Y, J-U-D-E, over & over again until the moment passed.
Squeezed into a booth in a dive bar, debriefing with my friend group. The question of the year rolled off my tongue: Guys, is it time to get a real job?
None of us have real jobs yet. Well not really. We are all Freelance/ Service Industry Warriors, as is the typical plight of the modern day Artist Ingénue. The real job question looms over our heads as time ticks away. When is it time to get serious?
The optics of it all just feels a bit pathetic, when I have to answer the inevitable so what do you do? question, and then I have to explain what it is that I do. Vlog/ Blog/ Evil on Depop/ Whatever other random thing I can get my hands on in that specific fragment in time. I can’t finish this thought process because I am horribly distracted by my skull fracturing migraine.
I am sitting on the bus, heading towards the Goodwill thinking about money, thinking about cash, unlimited cash, endless funds, the works. Poor decisions regarding cash makes me think about redacted. Not in an I-miss-him sense but in an, I’m curious sense. I wonder if he still has the same car. I wonder if he got a motorcycle. I wonder if he is bartending. I wonder if he still lives with his cousin. I wonder if he is making music. I wonder if he is making friends. I wonder if he’s found his own Ruby and Amelie. I wonder if he has new tattoos. I wonder if the rumors were true.
My disinterest in dating, in romance, feel permanent. I’ve been going on more dates than ever recently, and yet I’ve never felt more disinterested in this whole endeavor. And yet. And yet I keep agreeing to go on these dates anyways. It’s like they can sense that I don’t want to do this right now, so I’ve been getting whisked away on more dates than ever before. I am getting approached more than usual. I am getting flirted with more than usual. I don’t know why I keep saying yes to going on these painful dates when it always feels so forced. My body physically curls away and screams NO but I want to want to date right now, and I’m aggravated that my body & my brain are going in two separate directions. I keep trying to force myself to do it anyways, to date, and then it’s obvious to everyone involved that I would rather be anywhere else. And then I drink and drink some more to try and change my mind, but my stubbornness won’t budge. Feeling #Jaded #FeelingDistrustfulAndDisappointedInEveryoneMyselfIncluded.
Also feeling: nauseous from what I believe to be a caffeine induced migraine. I don’t know when it happened but I went from one morning double shot of espresso, to a double shot and a green tea, to two double shots and two green teas, and that’s where I’ve landed as of current. I’m making feeble attempts at slowly weening myself off, but I’m sitting on the bus with just a singular shot of espresso swirling in my system and my face is turned downward into a fixed frown.
I want to cut my hair into a little pixie. I kept going back-and-forth deliberating, but I think it would look chic. I don’t like that word but I think that this could be a moment for me. Well also for convenience factors because I am tired of all my hair balls everywhere, picking up the clumps of hair off my sheets & floorboards every night.
Back to romance. I’ve always been the most crush crazy lady in the world. I’ve never felt this way before- just so wholly uninterested in dating and crushes and relationships. I’m not even depressed, or I am but I’m at a very baseline normal, all I’ve ever known, level. A manageable level. But this new disinterest in romance, this is so foreign to me. I have always had a debilitating crush for as long as I can remember. Elementary through college, these feelings have been so all-consuming. This is the first time where there’s been nothing to latch onto.
I put together a bag of really ugly miscellaneous clothes to sell at the buy/sell/trade store near me. I want to get rid of the stuff that probably won’t sell on my Depop. I dropped off my bag of junk and flipped through the hangers of junk in the store for maybe 40 seconds before leaving in disgust. If they don’t take my junk I will feel so personally offended because the shit cluttering that store consisted of the most ridiculously hideous items by eyes have ever bore witness to.
I want to get drunk and play on Hinge tonight, by my lonesome. Want to be by my lonesome very, very badly. I was on FaceTime with Lyn & Garrett & they asked me to hang out and I said no I need to be alone right now. Wonder what I should do with the new cash I am about to acquire and the answer is not purchase beer and cigarettes.
New cash lining my pockets is $72.30. Amazing news. Spirits were already lifted and then I walked by a free library stand where I picked up a disintegrating copy of Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy. Perfect day alert encroaching. I know that the odds of me ever cracking open this book are next to none, but it felt satisfying to find. I want a gluttonous meal. I am not hungry. Took a deep breath in through my nose to further assess what it is I truly want. Inconclusive. What is it that I really want? Pressed down on my abdomen with the palm of my left hand. I am neither hungry nor thirsty, I am just in the mood to consume something in excess.
I have a fantasy that isolating myself mitigates the harm that I cause others. If I avoid, you I cannot hurt you. If I avoid you, you cannot hurt me. My friends are complex, flawed individuals. I am a complex, flawed individual. These are the thoughts running through my head after sending a fresh batch of “sorry, busy today!” response texts.
I find myself feeling disheartened when there’s newfound cracks in the narratives I’ve carefully crafted in my head. That I can be unkind and jealous and spiteful and retaliatory and
and I have a bad habit of going eerily silent in group settings lately. When I am in a large crowd of people and I let them do the speaking, I myself am not even doing the listening. I am nothing but an empty vessel, the area between my ears hollowed out clean. I sit and I do not engage, do not contribute, I just sit wordless, thoughtless. Happy to have a place at the table, with as minimal contributions to the group dynamic as possible. If I open my mouth I’ll be caught, and they’ll realize I wasn’t supposed to be there to begin with. So I stay silent.
She said something that bothered me so I physically plugged my ears with my knuckles to block the noise. I did this until she stopped talking. Whether she stopped because of my action or the story was just over, I am unsure. Ignorance is bliss and I do not want to hear these things that shift my perspective in the negative direction.
I miss my car. The car is the one space in the world where I can be wholly myself, unencumbered, truly all alone. I miss when I would spend hours alone in my car, parked in random empty parking lots, binge-eating fast food. My suburban dream world.
1:29 pm. Sitting at my favorite cafe in the world in my not favorite neighborhood in the world. I love every square inch of New York but this neighborhood is OPP CITY. A girl I have one sided beef with posted an instagram story that I clicked through with an eye roll where she said, “she’s such a *this neighborhood* girl” and I thought to myself, TRUTH!
Why do I have one sided beef with random girls right now. Character flaw alert. At least none of them know that we have beef, except for the one. This one chick attempted to follow me on instagram yesterday and I removed her within seconds because I could sense the evil girl energy from a mile away.
This is my favorite cafe because it reminds me of drunken monkey, my second favorite cafe from home. It’s the same but bigger, the same but the baristas are not my childhood friends. It’s large and spacious and the chairs are comfortable couches and no one can see what I am typing away on my laptop. I am free to type away whatever I want, because I am sitting all alone in a corner of the room, sprawled out with all this space to myself. A New York miracle. This cafe feels like a New York miracle. It’s mostly empty in here, sans me and the barista who was so kind to me. She did nothing special to be regarded as “so kind”, I could just sense her kind energy. Her languid energy. Her sleepy eyes. She barely spoke any words other than the basics, what can I get you and tap whenever you’re ready. But she seemed trustworthy.
Oh my god I know him. Oh my god I know him. A man I know just walked into the cafe. OPP INCOMING. He’s not an opp, he was very kind to me. Opp adjacent. Opp in law. Oh my god fuck fuck fuck I am typing this over & over again to pretend to be busy and to not look up so that he does not see me. Oh my god he saw me. Fuck my life. Averted my gaze but we made split-second eye contact. Fuck me. When did New York become so small? Typing, typing, pretending to be sooo busy and so engrossed with the words I am typing until he walks out of this building. Not even in my own neighborhood and yet I am seeing familiar faces. Social butterfly-ing & its consequences. Oh my god he is talking to my new best friend, the barista with the languid energy. Fuck. My life. Oh, great he’s pulling her into an embrace. What-fucking-ever you can have her. Man, okay.
Okay on the bright side I guess I do have male opps, which is reassuring in the sense that I am not an accidental misogynist. I can have one sided beef with anyone. Nice. Going to pick a fight with a they/them next to complete the trifecta. Anyone is fair game to be an op of mine. Going to find a they/them to beef with this week. I’m feeling like a hypocrite because sitting here typing away on my laptop, I keep thinking to myself, wait I love this neighborhood so much. This is like, my perfect cafe. It’s very sitcom-esq. It’s nice when Love & Hate can coexist beautifully.
I think my friend ***** has arrived at this cafe. I checked her location and saw that it was .2 miles from mine, so I texted her, hiii if you’re bored you should come to the cafe.
My friend Katie came to the cafe because I checked her location and saw that it was .2 miles from mine, so I texted her, hiii if you’re bored you should come to the cafe. So now she is seated across from me and reading Go Tell it on the Mountain by James Baldwin. Well she has it laying on the table in front of her while we update each other on our current life events. I am currently writing, AKA my computer is open to a blank document in front of me that I am refusing to make eye contact with.
Leaving the cafe now & standing around at the Marcy Avenue train stop. Waiting for my precious M train. Typing this with very bad posture. Leaned against the wall, gut is pushed out and butt is pushed in and I can’t imagine what my side profile looks like right now, but standing straight sounds inconceivable. I am wearing my black mini dress and matching ballet flats with grey socks. I look very gorgeous if we do not take into account my posture and my RBF and the way that my eyebrows are furrowed in annoyance at how long the M is taking to arrive. Two J trains have just passed me by and my patience is wearing thin. 10 minutes later and I am standing in an unmoving train. There’s technically a seat for me if I want it bad enough, but an evil man is manspreading and taking up two spaces, so now I am subjected to standing. Ripping apart his brain tissue with my mind. Chivalry is dead when all the seats on the train are being taken up by evil men, and I am subjected to standing. Forced to be next to a high school couple fondling each other. Wow, the girl is squeezing his ass now. Okay. Wow. Oh my god I am so hangry I could explode. I had two coffees and was fine, but then the cigarette I had with Katie made me slightly queasy and now I want nothing more than a large smoothie consumed from the comfort of my bed. I don’t have smoothie ingredients. I don’t have any ingredients really. Need to stop at the grocery store because my fridge is pitifully empty, but the thought of making any stops except straight upstairs and into my bed actually makes me want to have a meltdown. Ha ha a girl just entered the train car on this stop and plopped herself right next to the evil man taking up two seats, squeezing herself into the spot to his utter dismay. Ha ha. Love her. Want a smoothie so badly. Want a smoothie more than anything. Okay I’ll do it. Need to aquire bananas and dates. And peanut butter. Okay wait, no peanut butter because I’ll abuse it. Just bananas and dates. Not allowed to purchase groceries that I know I will abuse (peanut butter, cheese, anything salty, anything crunchy). But I have very bad self control so this has just turned into me avoiding the grocery store all together.
Off my train & walking home & kicking a stray Juul pod on the street like a soccer ball.
Checked my Taco Bell app out of curiosity and can redeem a free Baja blast as a birthday reward. Tonight’s smoothie. Thank god.
Picked up my Baja Blast and slurped it down in bed like the most holistic beverage I’ve ever ingested. Stuff I’ve consumed today: two coffees (one latte one drip), 2 cigarettes (one red one gold), one Baja blast. Goodnight World, time to run this all back again tomorrow.
I relate to your writing so much it’s so nice to know that I’m not alone in my thoughts of worrying about the future and wanting myself and my friends to live to our fullest potential ❤️
I've been trying to type a comment thats not either me telling you again to write a book or me infodumping stupid details about my own life that remind me of things you write about in your blogs. So i'll just leave you with: when you feel jittery from caffeine you could eat a banana cause i've been told it balances out the caffeine (this might be just as placebo as the advil thing but its another nice placebo to add to the list). Sending you love x x