was it when I was laying on my chest in the living room, the cat curled up on my ass, watching the snow fall through the fogged-up windows as sweet potatoes boiled?
when I was jaywalking across the odious morass of dimond blvd, feeling twenty years out of my element and hoping no one recognized me?
when I was walking into horizontal snow that felt like a swarm of moths, shakily singing along to "I'll come running" and trying not to cry?
when we were all sitting around the table at Leroy's, dipping our fries in maple syrup?
or was it whilst walking down a street i'd never, in ~17years, actually walked down before? i was so cold it ached. and it was so fucking beautiful: the light was incredible and the sheer visceral sensation of being THIS COLD, in a place of my choosing and by my own propulsion, was pretty goddamn dramatic, because did I feel alive, and present in the moment, and like it somehow made bizarrely perfect sense?
walks always help.
-my hood.
-elderberry park. normally this is one of the first places I go to when I visit. now that I live here... tonight was the first time. it's been my happy sullen emotional giddy disgusted lovestruck brooding place ever since I was a self-conscious teenager sucking on Montclair menthol ultra-lights by the picnic tables.
-facing west, 745pm.
-I had a minor meltdown today. like, a buy-my-ticket, never-mind, fuck-this-horrible-mistake panic attack. I sat and stared at the wall, and at the frigid April alley, and at the sleeping cat, for about thirty minutes. no matter where I go, there I am. and seriously, I can sometimes be a real fucking chore....
so I got the distractingly narcissistic idea of taking a photo of myself sulking, so I have proof of what needing to pull my head out of my ass looks like.
-looking east on 5th.
-oh hi! there isn't much litter in anchorage proper, but when there is, it looks like this.
-I am so fucking cold my eyes are watering.
-5th & M.
-western exposure.
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