I’m covering my face and expecting to cry to Frank Ocean, but I can’t be bothered. I’ve moved. Cars drive by all day and maybe for a few moments a night, there is a brief silence, usually after 1 a.m. This sound is going to define the next year for me. It wasn’t until months after moving into my previous address that I realized I could hear the train and, afterwards, my awareness of all the noise increased. I can still fall asleep to it, but I never feel alone. Is this a good thing or bad thing? Or just a big city thing? I don’t turn the lights on after a long day. I like taking off my makeup in the dark, changing my clothes in the dark, standing naked and watching cars drive past in the dark. I’ve been working six days a week and you know that track on Blonde – Be Yourself? That shit attacks me every time. Like what am I doing right now?
I have a journalism degree I don’t use because why? I want to write things and don’t because I’m lazy? I’m wasting my days away, sleeping in late and surviving and doing a dumb part-time job to pay for my cost of living because? There are some things I’m doing well, like experiencing things and making friends and being autonomous, but there are things I’m not doing well at all and these things matter more to me. I’m not reading or writing or trying hard enough.
When I want to feel better about the state of things, I call my mom and feel thankful I am not living with my family anymore. I don’t miss a lot of things about home. Maybe the weather and the trees, some friends, some memories.
Mostly, I don’t.
This past Tuesday I saw –
A STOR¥ BY ? 