No longer what you ask, strange steps, heels turn black

The apartment, from where i'm sitting, looks really empty and bare and lonely

and i'm sitting on a lawn chair by the window, listening to an infomercial ft. betty white.

So this is what i've been missing huh? pssht, cable tv.



We have very limited channels, and very a very limited distance in which you can travel with your laptop once it's plugged in to the router.

I don't mind i don't mind i don't mind at all

and the apartment is bare and boring and bright and i love it and i am so happy even though i feel like both other parties went to bed in an asshole kind of way but whatever i don't even care.

I wonder where my phone is, i bet it's dead, i hope when i find it there's texts or something.



I'm tired of being sad and worried so i'm going to try something else and i bet i KNOW i'll feel better. This depression is contagious and heavy and it's ready to go.

Tomorrow i'm excited to work because i get 2 days off after, even though i work until ten i don't even care because i actually love the commute home, and i love the walk from the station, and i love the elevator, and i love the dingy old smokey smell of the hallways, and i love living close to everything, and i love when i work in the mornings because i love walking downtown and smiling at the crack heads ignoring them at the same time, and i love walking to the grocery store, and i love waiting in the lines even though i say i hate it because i'm old enough to wait in grocery store line ups and be pissed off about it now, and i love how i feel when i wake up every day, and i love that my sister lives 3 Mississippi's below us, and i love when moulton-skodas cook dinner, and i love drinking beer, and i love the feeling of security that comes with living in a building, and i love that we have asian neighbours who clearly don't give a fuck, and i love the good vibes my cat sends from lounging around any and every where, and i love that he didn't do that when i lived at home, and i love the sudden realizations i get every now and then of "this is MIINE." and i love the pride i'm embarrassed about but feel anyways about living on my own, and i love doing or the thought of doing IMPORTANT things with rachel and tiffany and other parties if necessary, and i kind of love living close to train tracks and busy road because i'm never reallyyyy alone, i love that it's really never quiet in the good way and not the bad way.

The Runaways was badass and now i'm depressed that i didn't exist in the most important decade of humanity, but still got me some what pumped to make music without giving a fuck (but giving a fuck just enough to make it music) and i guess i'll learn to deal with listening to records and watching youtube videos about the past when productive things where starting and happening and moving, while the present is going on NOW (hey what's up 2000's you fucking SUCK.) Some people got to find a recipe for the cookies, some people got to make them, some people got to eat them, and i get to clean up the fucking dishes.

There must have been a reason why i was born in 1990, there must be another reason why i'm here. maybe i would have fucked up the kick ass revolutions, maybe i'm cleaning up the dishes to prepare for another baked good.

Sincerely yours,

cherry bomb xo