Looking for room, somewhat desperate, almost willing to share a studio with two others. Looking for validation perhaps. Looking for a way in.
thinking about the new neighbors in apt. # 7 saw them through the window once and they seemed excited to be in a new place. Thinking about how old they are. Thinking about how long they have lived in this city. Not that residency is a meaningful metric. But on how
many corners and down how many streets do ghosts live. Take me almost anywhere in this city and a memory breaks in. Laying in the dark I am full of memories. They break in unwanted, I try to drown them out with the play-by-play of a Legacy Magic: The Gathering Content Creator and then think looking for room.
feeling out of control. Feeling like an addict. Feeling like someone who is perpetually almost there but never not quite. Looking for room to see my friends. Feeling bad about not being very good at many things. I can take care of my dog, my wife,
my newborn but not without the help of my dog, and my wife and my newborn. I think I’m strong but then when I’m not I’m really not and all I want to do is drink a fucking 40. Sometimes when I feel bad, I can taste it as I swallow. I can feel the cold glass and the weight as I walk. I can hear the snap of the lid and feel the first long pull from the mouth of the bottle.
I can see me iN multiples, on many corners, in
many rooms and down many streets doing this.
I feel like an addict looking for room.