I had a conversation with my mom an hour ago that ended with her hanging up on me four minutes in. I put my playlist on shuffle and asked for a song to dictate how I should feel about her. Drake’s Fake Love came on, then Vince Staples’ BagBak. Thanks universe.
I’m off tomorrow and thinking about what I should do. I wanted to eat at a diner across from Savers, but I think I’ll go out the way to get an actually good breakfast meal. I’m ready for coffee and eggs and hashbrowns and French toast and sausage and bacon. If there was a Waffle House here, I’d be at Waffle House. Fuck you Denny’s.
My cousin texted me at 4 a.m. EST to tell me about a dream that woke him up. These are his texts verbatim:
JEN
I had the crazyest dream ever
Basically what happen was that when you return back to grandma house, you were trying to get your things and ba Hai started brothering you and I came up stairs to stop him and it cut off to the bathroom that is next to the room. I checked the baththub and I see red blood, I was looking for you because I was really worried, you arrive a few minutes later and said “I slice his neck, you weren’t any help Richard, your scared and weak” I said I’m not and what are you going to do with the body? ” you say get rid of the evidence.. and then I woke up
I kinda remember a glimpse of an aguement and everyone was against you and I said stop you have no right to say that and you got triggered, went upstairs, ba hai followed you up and you kill him; yeah your were super scary
Not gonna lie, it made me laugh. Also, yes, my cousin is going to be 18-years-old next year and his overall usage of the English language is pretty terrible. I still love him.
I’ve been reflecting on a lot of things this month and part of that includes the things that are worth it or not worth it, as well as how I’ve been treating myself. There are bumps every month, but as long as I’m trying, I’m growing. Work continues to be a minor worry for me. Any time I want to complain or hate work, I suck it up and remind myself that it’s temporary and meant to sustain me just enough for me to pursue the things that matter. I might be a complete idiot, but oh well.
Last Sunday I went to the Geffen MoCA and saw Adrián Villar Rojas’ The Theater of Disappearance. The installation at the Geffen is his fourth and final of the series for this year. I don’t know if he’ll have more theaters next year, but I have a feeling he won’t. In his conversation with Elina Kountouri at the National Observatory of Athens, where his third theater was held, he said, “…I plan things by years. So every year, let’s say, there’s a release of energy that generates this project. And all the projects of that year are very severely, intricately connected. In some more or less evident ways.” So if his Theater at the Geffen is his last project for this year, I would say he had a fantastic fucking year.
I’ve been on a monthly kind of mindset myself, as you may have noticed, but I think I will start the yearly mindset for 2018. This year hasn’t gone to hell for me, being that I moved across the country, got to a point where I can run three miles every few days, and took some steps in becoming an independent and functional member of human society… but my creative energy has yet to find an outlet that works. Drafts are piling up and I’m feeling self-conscious. Like, who even cares? Writers are narcissists. Everything is a personal affront. Why does any of this matter? Am I necessary voice? Am I a voice at all? And aren’t we all screaming loudly into the void at this point anyways?
If I believed that were the case, I wouldn’t push the publish button. And yet…
Here I go.
A STOR¥ BY ? 