a tiny bottle of tomato, orange, pineapple and grapefruit juice. cranberries and chocolate-dipped raisins. a mug of coffee. ticket stubs from the cinema. messages from the boy. reggae radio in the air. opened balcony door and spread out curtains. I don’t like it when the light comes through in my room. I slept in this morning, just the ideal number of hours. I lingered in bed for another twenty minutes. I checked my phone. four messages, sweet words and kisses. I felt a pang at heart when I thought that soon, maybe, I won’t be starting my days like this anymore. I looked at my dirty walls, scraps of tape and teared posters. there are words next to the headbed written in drying-out permanent marker. a list of things to keep in mind. I lose them often. I looked at my books, an entire wall of rainbow-sorted books. I decided they’d all be coming with me when it’s time to move. I switched the writing editor from text to visual, but I can’t decide whether it makes it easier to write. I want to go back to paper journals. again.
November 3, 2013