Justin woke me up this morning. I wanted to go back to sleep, but my phone is 1% because my charger putzed out last night and I don’t trust my alarm anymore. When you gotta wake up, you gotta wake up.
Today I have to pick up a mattress and bed frame from a friend who’s moving to Shanghai. My car is way too small to do this, but we’ll figure it out. I managed to stuff all my material possessions in it, so I think it’ll be able to handle some come ups from friends.
The jams today are fresh and from LA. Duckwrth is cool as hell. I saw him as the opening for Rich Brian’s first tour and thought he should’ve been the headliner. But then he went on his own tour and I was like, meh. PR matters, unfortunately. I’ll catch him another time, but play that shit today, fam.
Last night, two of my neighbors invited me into their home at 11:30 p.m. and told me they were getting married. I cried. I ate spicy vegetarian Armenian food and tortilla chips and gave them my well wishes. The woman asked me why I was crying when just a few days ago I squared up with her in the courtyard over her enabling ass bullshit, watching her grown son beat women, then putting the blame on them. I said I was crying because I was happy. Love is love, no matter how complicated your situation. When you feel it, you feel it.
And I felt it from Frank, the man who reached out and asked me for some outsider perspective. You should respect love when someone comes to you and tells you they love someone. You can question it, but you should always respect it. And so I cried and I told her I loved her, too, but there are boundaries to our relationship as neighbors. She broke me off a piece of that Kit Kat and took a marshmallow from the castle her grandson was building. I held up both tokens, smiling.
“It’s the spicy things, followed by the sweet things. Right?”
A STOR¥ BY ? 