i don't know what i can save you from

okay, disclaimer.

it's 11:20 p.m., there's a party at my house, i'm drunk, and i'm packing up all my possessions.

dear goodness, has it only been 19 months since I moved here?

i came here in april. my heart was broken. i had short hair and i was wearing birds on my shirt. alone: that was how i felt. andrew t came over on my 2nd day here and in my peripheral vision, he reminded me of someone i loved.

i scooped out dishes of ice cream for him.

why am i moving? for cheaper rent. for a change. to be on the west side.

sometimes i think about the word "sublime": originally, feeling the sublime meant you felt tiny and insignificant; a speck of dust on the marred face of the universe.

that's how i feel tonight. in a happy way.

i think about slaughterhouse 5 too. about the aliens who see time as happening all at once. being happy about each moment of good, all the time. is there a reason humans don't do this?

of course.

would i go back tonight if i could?

do you even need to ask?