some kind of getaway

The hardware store she’d entered into seemed a bit confused. In the display window was a large sign that glowed NAILS in large, pink letters that appeared to have been lifted from the entrance of a manicurist’s shop. Alongside it were banners in a red, white, and blue wavy font that declared an Independence! Day! Sale! into existence every single weekend of the year. Inside, a shopper could find whatever they might be looking for—frayed and half used balls of twine, water logged boards, and washers in every size but the ones the bolts came in.
She knelt down to give a needy Persian a stroke, then flipped the sign on the door to OPEN.
The world was full of small impossibilities no one would admit to, and she took pride in offering only the wrong tools for the job. If a thing had hitherto been unfixable, it had remained that way because people had only ever tried the right tools.

beauty beauty beauttttty and flashbacks to seeing them last fall

Did you know the stuff inside us loses density? I found out at the start of the year—first from an ad on the subway, next from the thin lips of a doctor.

They both told me to take supplements but I spend the money on bus fare to your apartment and extra loosies on parade days and waxed bottles of homemade liquor from corner store regulars.

When I crush empty milk cartons at the end of the week, I wonder if they know that they are insufficient, that I am deficient, that my mother’d said I would grow up strong but I am here disintegrating.

picture in picture

picture in picture

What music can I not regret louder than?

First ever casting call tomorrow.

Being a human is weird.

Getting offered a fair hourly wage for something I was doing for free right when I was starting to feel under-appreciated and money-stressed =