I went to gallery stroll tonight, and things felt like they were right. Like there was nothing else I was supposed to being doing, other than what I was doing from 6-8. And I liked that. All of the angst from before was gone for a while, and I completely forgot about my geology midterm and my empty bank account and my absent friends. Like, all of it was gone and it was just me and the moments. I wasn't planning or thinking about what I was going to do next; I was just doing things.
And that was beautiful. That feeling.
And now I am spending another Friday night alone. I used to think this was symbolic, but I'm coming to realize it's routine. I wonder what my neutral-ness toward this fact means. I guess we'll find out in thirty years when I am sitting in a room watching horror movies and petting dogs with human names.
I can't think of an appropriate way to end this, so I'm just going to finish with a quote from my favorite spoken word: Doing It Wrong by Miles Hodges and Alysia Harris.
"just let Einstein keep dreaming, all hypothesis and semen"
XOXO
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