Waking up at 4:47 p.m. My eyes are glued shut and I have to be at work at 5.
Delivering at China Wok.
It’s busy and people are ordering from all over town causing me to have longer drives.
Your “Hiiii” text was nice and the “miss you” one. To know I’m still lurking in a room somewhere in your mind makes me feel better, even if it is only a closet-spaced size. Keep breaking my heart gently.
Eating Vegetable Lo Mein. Honey Oolong Tea. I feel like this is the first substantial meal I’ve had in a while.
Business.
Counting quarters—listening to playlists on itunes—laundry.
Organizing music files.
Eating a bowl of Cherrios with Brown Sugar.
The two most important women in my life have been texting me back and forth this evening: Mom and Margot. My mother is thinking of my sister Dana who passed away 20 years ago to this day. Mom: “I feel a strange sadness 2nite.” And Margot’s just keeping in touch with me, small chatting about our activities, “Bleh. At a friend’s house listening to kc and Jo all my life.”
Newspaper route.
Snacking on Salt n Vinegar Chips.
They’re discussing UFO myths and realities on Coast to Coast radio.
Overanalyzing things. I tend to do that quite a lot while I’m driving. Still feeling the lovesick pangs over you. Don’t know when they will stop.
Eating an Egg and a slice of leftover Pizza. Pear.
Playing music at the storage unit—composing—reviving old melodies. It’s almost as if these older ideas I wrote years ago foreshadowed things to come. Baby, you’ve inspired me to put music to these feelings of loss. Maybe I can sing my way out of this. It’s beautiful though, this release through song. It’s personal. It’s all in the name of you.
Watching Murder in the First [1995].
Sleep 10 a.m.
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