Indiana is mind-clearing. I have eaten pizza and ice cream and visited the old places I used to dream of escaping. Coming back, they are familiar and welcoming. The new, different me finds pieces of herself in the streets and the woods and the bars, scattered but intact.
My friend Lacey says she knows I'm not over the city. I'm not, I miss it, but it's good to come home for a while.
Last night I drank and smoked out my cold. You thought you wanted this body, viral fuckers? Ha! Take that and that and that. Met a drunk girl who talked to me for two minutes before asking, "So what do you do for a living? Write emo poems or something?" "Why, actually, yes. Yes I do." Kissed on the mouth my brother's best man but he is sloppy. He is Orestis, of Poland and Cyprus. We got in a fight once in Paris at a fourteenth prefecture bar called AutoPassion. I said since he's not doing anything right now he should come stay with me for a few weeks in Boston. Be the man around the house. Keep me company and accompany me on the guitar. Protect me from the crazies.