with a head as heavy as a bowling ball. a friend found my wallet underneath his mother's bed. a homeless man gave the wallet to my mom and my mom gave it to my dad and my dad gave it to me. it was a very important wallet since there's an infinite amount of possibilities as to whom it may have belonged to prior to the homeless man. plus, i had recently gotten a brand new license at the time because i turned twenty-one and there was an address in there and some money. long story short, i actually only had four dollars in it which i later spent on a spicy falafel sandwich and so i have two wallets and two identification cards now, but no money.

so i sit here on this park bench, watching people imagining who they are. i dropped my bra down the crack of the bunk bed but i was too tired to go get it right then and now, plus this european girl is watching me, i think ill do it in the morning. my stomach is growling and the window is so thin, you can hear everything.

later hanging out with groups of people i'm trying to think about what im doing and hiding in the washroom seems to be a lot satisfying and meaningful than overlapping with the congested crowd of drunken dancing and these girls all occupied with physical saying you look alright why are you fixing yourself, strangers and liquid combing hair she looks at me, i just really like being alone sometimes. this is only chemical romance and im thinking im ready to go home. then some guy rubbing his three o'clock shadow on my neck so i slept on a mattress on the balcony porch, he has hairy ears catching something, maybe from all those kinks and crackles suffocating my lungs. my throat itches and my hands aren't small enough for such a narrow passage to scratch, i don't know what it is but i think i'm stuck on pause like time is in charge right now and i'm only watching creating the illusion of an object in space. months ago in hampi sitting on a temple eating cashews and sugar six something in the morning with a man coughing up a storm near a river bathing in terra cotta water sort of raining so i was thinking human interaction and how translucent it it sometimes being content as an observer watching the colors of everything and how people talk there are more banana trees than children and the rocks are piles of giant pebbles balancing on top mostly water moving and birds whistling people mumbling foreign sounds.

mornings are so funny because it's like night time now, but bright. sometimes i really do wish i slept normally because then it would feel okay to drink coffee at two in the afternoon, but sometimes that's when i'm about to go to bed. actually now that i think about it, it doesn't really make sense because, well, i don't know what the heck i'm talking about . i have no sense of time and i suppose it makes it easier to wonder about how everyone is doing because everyone is so far away and time doesn't really matter because it's not the same here, if that made sense at all. like it's all about the now type moment and each of you are doing what you're doing without having any relation to how i'm doing, so when i do think and wonder about someone, it's just simply about them. i think it's easier if people are miles away from one another. the world is funny, have you ever felt like you were in between something, it's like i'm existing outside myself and i don't know where exactly i belong. sometimes i forget that i'm still here, or anywhere but i see these plants and colorful people and you can't help but inhale just a bit deeper, thickening your whole surroundings into that air you breathe just so you can absorb and embrace all things that are beyond words

but i've been staying in my parents' guest room since i've started sleeping on my washroom floor because my room is freezing, but it's okay because being in that room cultivated a handful of epiphanies. all of these new things are concurrently congested all around me so i'm making big decisions but i'm so gosh darn ambivalent sometimes, i end up doing something completely contrastive from my initial intent, because two months ago i was around the perimeter of dropping out of school completely. with having two classes down and four to go, i went east instead of west and now here i am. there's a lot going on and sometimes having a concrete plan just makes my entire being completely staggered and all i can think of is who will take care of my plants when i'm not around. it's like when i get excited about all these new projects or recipes or dioramas to build or new concentrations for a painting- when they all occur at once or when the thought of actually executing these ideas come up, the overlapping manifests into this cataclysmic phenomenon where all these ideas and thoughts implode and i'm left there sitting on the bed eating saltine crackers and a mango.

now there are ants roaming my floor but i don't want to intentionally harm them or anything at all, so i let them be. i just hope they don't decide to join me in bed. tomorrow morning i think i'll put a piece of candy outside. lately i feel as if i don't have someone to talk to, always imagining things and sitting. my room is like a cave and my plants keep me company but i talk inside my mind a lot, hopeful conversations and picturing shelves folded into carpets and chairs. i wonder what this room would look like if these objects were compacted into a landscape, something rectangle and confined. that's why i'm not too fond of shoes, they're like shells for your feet, your whole body needs to breathe. we shouldn't wear clothes either, i don't think. sometimes things remind me of seasons, a handful of anxieties here and there, like one of those wooden roller coasters but a bit more sneaky. at one point i didn't sleep for two days and forgot days and classes and felt really guilty for leaving lights on. i felt guilty a lot actually, even though i had nothing to feel guilty for, i am so out of shape. i thought drinking a few beers wont make me stutter or something. but then i thought i should just occupy my time by drawing and painting imagining tree houses that id like to live in, so i read about wormholes and in that movie they said if the sky were to suddenly open up there would be no law there would be no rule there would only be you and your memories the choices youve made and the people youve touched.

so ever since that motorcycle drive by i've written letters to people i've met some just once or never and this internal popcorn machine started popping like words should be shared when they're meant to be spoken kernels like moments thoughts on someone. so there's a pile of them on the table next to my bed where they wait until i'm sure they'll find their place. sometimes i stop talking because i want to stop using words feeling the meaning behind them. there's just something happening in my mind or inside my abdomen, somewhere within me that i can't really locate specifically without feeling like im making no sense at all. its like im constantly tying to balance something but gravity is non-existent. it's true when i say i have no idea where i belong because there's difficulty trying to pin point myself sometimes andwhat the heck, showers really don't matter that much sometimes either, there's just a lot of balancing going on right now.