I automatically assume people won’t like me, so I don’t talk to them unless they approach me first. I can’t become a part of a crowd because I can’t get past that feeling that I don’t belong.
I’ve got my jammies on and I’m hanging out with my resident butt-warmer.
Every month I get to a point where I just want to put myself in a coma only to wake up when my next check gets deposited.
Being broke isn’t so bad if you just sleep through it.
At 7:35 A.M, you lay your tired body on mine
before peeling off, like a slow band-aid.
At 8:40 you sprint home and make instant coffee.
At 9:45 we finally drink it, cold.
I finish your leftover half.
By 10:50 you are already breathless.
I live for every time we overlap.
When 11:55 comes I spend the entire minute convincing you to stay.
You never do.
By noon I put my hands on your shoulders and say, “Baby,
you’re getting thin. All this running in circles and barely sitting down to eat.”
At 1:05 you tell me that while you were gone,
15,300 babies were born.
At 2:10 you don’t say a word,
just come in and kiss me for sixty seconds straight.
At 3:15 we sit quiet, listening to rain falling everywhere
in the world at once: all 15,000 tons.
At 4:20 we pull a little from the tight joint I keep behind your ear.
You do not inhale.
At 5:25 you meet me for happy hour.
My neck already salted, a lime wedged in my teeth,
a shot of tequila sitting on the bar.
At 6:30 I hear the ticking.
I count your heartbeat like seconds between thunderclaps.
By 7:35 I can see you in the distance,
each second a tease until you drape over me.
We always love quick and you never let me hold you.
I dream of drinking you through a straw.
At 8:40 you watch my beard grow 0.00027 of an inch.
At 9:45 we do not speak.
Too many people have died since we last met.
At 10:50 we pray for a meteor,
at least a clumsy kid to spill sugar in our gears.
11:55 is my favorite.
We’re only apart for mere minutes.
But at midnight you’ll apologize sixty times
because it will always be like this.
At 1:04 AM I am already sleeping.
It’s exhausting loving someone
who is constantly running away.
Every time I breathe I hear my lungs whisper “I hate you.”
I am wheezing terribly and I’m mostly broke until June 3. Those two things have nothing to do with each other, except that I’m annoyed by both of them.
I was reading about Amanda Bynes and there were several comments on the article about how she needs a boyfriend and how she won’t attract a man if she continues to behave so erratically.
Yes, not having a boyfriend or attracting a man, that’s the real problem.
Most Annoying Neighbor put all of her stuff in a U-Haul two days ago and moved, at least I thought she did. She was just yelling about something in the parking lot and she was yelling about something else yesterday.
IT NEVER ENDS.
Write hard and clear about what hurts.
I still have not written to my apartment manager to ask for an extension. For those not following along, I have been in a two-year transitional apartment for 2.5 years and I’m worried about getting evicted. They are threatening tenants with eviction. Basically, if you’ve been here over two years, you have to request an extension and you get 30, 60, or 90 days. The manager has never brought this up with me and I don’t want to be the one to bring it up.
My therapist (who works with people like me) assures me that they won’t kick me out on the streets because it’s part of a HOUSING PROGRAM and if participants don’t find HOUSING then the program has failed.
That’s not what I hear from residents, though. I have one neighbor who told me that he was told to leave at the end of next month, and that they “don’t care” that he has nowhere to go.
I really don’t want to write that letter because honestly, no one notices me and I don’t want to call attention to the fact that I’ve been here so long. I’ve talked to the manager twice in the past couple of weeks and he has never brought it up, so why should I?
I was having a lovely visit with my friend (who is leaving town today) and we had a totally awkward moment just a few minutes before parting ways. Oops!