I Remember...

The pieces are finally coming together

I've been through some things...and until I can figure out how to word them. I guess, my posts will be a little messy.

Today I just wanted to smoke in peace. I want my days all to myself. I'm hanging laundry on my left, bong in my right, and then the neighbor, from way across the street yells out to me,

"Hey! E!"

"Heeeyyyy"

"What are you doing?"

I'm *obviously* hanging laundry.

A white cigarette tucked behind his ears - he's staying for the whole cigarette. Fuck.

"Nothing, I'm just... hanging laundry." I'm faced towards the sky, I can't believe I have to share my time.

"Oh, you must be old school!"

"No, I'm just cheap." For the first time since I was a kid, I started cursing under my breath.

It was so annoying, but I chatted with my neighbor, and then let him rip the bong. I shooed him away, then, of course, afterwards, I had to salt and clean it. The whole time cleaning thinking every time a black woman reaches inspiration, an old black man is somewhere in the background, waiving, hands out -Asking why you don't smile more.

I'm trying to find the motivation to write more...watching Japanese horror films right now, trying to replenish my soul a little.

I've only been living in my head for the past decade, only able to think of myself.

Only able to survive. While looking at myself from the outside in. Like I was trapped in a thought bubble. Like I was at the window, invisible girl, while the people safe inside fed themselves and loved each other.

"大変やったよねTaihenyatta yo ne

頭の中で花がばっかりやろうAtama no naka de hana ga bakkari yarou

世のなん...yo no nan...

何も しらん やろう nanimo shiran yarou"

#minanisachiare