Just there.
The streets constantly whisper. I'm at a full table of people. no one is talking or looking at me. maybe it's because I'm typing away at my phone. I was introduced to "everyone," but I'm only worth a glance. why did I stop and sit? I should've kept walking. everyone is making plans that I cringe at the thought of. I don't want wine. thanks. I'm on the busiest street in this town after dark. I saw a girl puke into a trashcan and a horse shit on the sidewalk. what does this have to do with sound? well, like a j-cut I heard it before I saw it. I can't recall what mode that is. I'm sitting by myself listening to people call themselves artists, but are only motivated by and celebrate material possessions.
Alone.
I listen to Anthony Bourdain's voice narrate his experience with taco rice in Okinawa, Japan. I want to try it. The ceiling fan hums as it circulates the air. Last night as I drove home from the beach, I took my shirt off to feel the breeze on my skin. This fan comes nowhere near that feeling. My laptop tells me it is at 5% battery with a chime that no one can ever recall its origin. A farm maybe? Does Apple consider the sound of the keyboard when someone types? I should click Publish before the screen fades to black. I think of her. She types much faster than me and her words seem to flow as fast as the emotions they evoke in me. We both know it will end in disaster, but I don't care.
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