Bedroom

I’m sitting outside on my patio drinking a coffee and writing this diary like a morning paper. It’s like the Artists way for sad indie writers and women that have managable personality disorders.

The air outside is hot and humid, I almost regret a hot coffee. There was a period of time where I only drank hot black coffee when I was about 22 living in south New Jersey. I thought it made me cool. I would drink a black hot coffee and go outside with my girlfriend at the time. She would hit her weed pen back to back and i’d just sit there as well. The air there felt more fresh and wet in the early morning. I’m not really someone who hates their ex’s, I feel more for her as if she was a lost child than an ex partner. I’m not sure why. Whenever I sit outside in sweat pants or clothing I would never be caught dead in- I remember those moments. Even though she would cough up half a lung and get super paranoid exactly 20 mins later every time like clockwork.

When I owned my condo- everyone came over to my place. I held house shows in the basement that got me community service duty and dust in my lungs that might still be there. However, I dont let people come to my apartment. In my entire lifetime I think Angel has only come over 3 times, briefly. Usually waiting for an uber. There are people who host in their home, and thats admirable. Mine is fashioned into more of a nest. Or maybe its own creature with its own identity. A collection of things dragged home because they make me feel safe. It’s not really impressive. I could do more I suppose. The clothes on my couch legally are defined as a sculpture in the confines of my West Village apartment.

My assortment of many bits and bobs. In other news I just bought another bikini with little butterflies on it and I’m changing my hair color drastically soon, to what color I do not know. I kept trying to get people to convince me not to, but alas. It shall happen. It’s only a matter of time.

Maybe you can help me pick?

I’ve been walking home at 6am before the city really wakes up. It reminds me a lot of my old job at SUBmercer. People walk up to me all the time and reference something I did there that was probably silly and a throw away gag to me but very cool to them. Yesterday I had a bunch of people record me in fitting into a box with the Club Room logo on the carpet in the background. Free press! Perhaps in my next life I am an actress. I went to go drink my coffee and now theres a fly in it.

I start recording music again this coming week. I am a bit nervous, but I have a better mindset going into it and im pretty open to all the possibilities. Consider subscribing for money since I’m officially REACTIVATED.

Thats for now,

Finnian