Blue.

It just hit me,

you're shitting me.

Stop quitting, see? 

Bedridden-free.

"I would dance until my feet hurt, and I would keep going after that."

Said by Lil Buck in the Netflix docuseries Move. Season 1, Episode 1.

"Listen to yourself, listen to your gut. Because only you know what's right for you. That's what being an artist is all about. Your power is in your individuality, and being exactly who you are. No two artists are alike, just like no two people are alike. That's why there's no competition in artistry, it's not about being the best or the biggest, the king or the queen—that notion is so ridiculous. That competition or comparison is actually the opposite of what being an artist is. As an artist, you should be in competition with only one person, yourself. You can't worry about what others are doing or saying. You have to keep that focus and stay true to who you are in order to be creative and make the best decisions."

Said by Jennifer Lopez in her audiobook True Love.

Out of touch,

out of space.

Out of patience,

out of place.

"Like a movie scene,
in the sweetest dream,
I have pictured us together."

From the song Waiting for Tonight by Jennifer Lopez.

Inexplicable.

If someone has been on your mind, let them know.

Greetings, from my little corner here on the Internet.

It's Friday night. The windows of my room overlook Amsterdam Avenue, a pretty major street, and there's plenty of stuff going on outside. Every time a car passes by blasting Fatman Scoop's Be Faithful, I feel happy. It takes me back to my young adult days of growing up in Queens and driving into the city on the weekends with friends to go party. But also, hearing the song just makes me stoked that people are still out there finding some joy, in despite of everything. I like to imagine that these cars have some fun destination (masked and socially-distanced, of course) they're heading to—or fuck it, even if they just want to blare music from their car while going for a drive, I'm all for that, too.

I was watching the final presidential debate last night, and when 45 called NYC a "ghost town," I couldn't help but roll my eyes. This is so far from the truth. There are still millions of people here going about their days and handling their shit. I mean it does feel quieter and emptier than normal at times, but walk one block over or wander the streets again the following day and it's a completely different picture. 

It's been a while since I left town. Honestly, the last time I was even on an airplane was early in 2019. I've been home everyday since the lockdown started, and while I'm itching to get some air and go away for even a weekend, I sadly wouldn't have anywhere to go. I also haven't gotten a haircut since March. I just don't have the mental capacity or bandwidth to even think about trying to get one right now. I've grown my hair out here and there as an adult, but this is by far the longest stretch. Living with longer hair is really different than shorter hair. I mean, the amount of my hair that I can now see shed is, in itself, a sobering reality and terrifying to witness. It's probably from me being in my late 30's, but I've come to see how precious hair is. And for every strand I see fall out and laying on my floor or laptop keyboard, my heart pangs. Damn, I remember being a teenager and always having barbers insist they thin out my hair a bit to make it look less heavy. Now it's good ole time that naturally does it for me. One thing I do like about having longer hair though is being able to push it back behind my ear. It's a novel feeling that feels so natural for some reason.

I used to be able to drink two 40s with no problem, and now two cans of beer make me feel full.

All I do at home is lie on my stomach in bed and watch 50 minutes videos of people eating bomb ass food in Korea.

There are so many moments where I feel like I'm looking back too much or reflecting on a time that has nothing to do with right now.

But then when I think about it, who the fuck knows what's going to happen in the near future? Even trying to entertain its landscape at this point in history feels pointless.

"Everybody's searching for a place,
where they can be known.
But I've found a place where I can do no wrong.
Everybody's loving me for being me,
but I never thought that I could be so free."

From the song Nitelife (Armand van Helden mix) by Kim English.

I decided to have some fried chicken and beer with soju at my desk here at home, so I am feeling good. 

Also, I usually eat fried chicken out of the box when I get it from my local spot, but what a difference it makes to plate it like a proper meal.

The past few weeks or so.

The election is only weeks away. On top of everything that's been happening in the world and in my life, I have this lingering anxiety from not knowing how I can deal with another four years of this administration if they win again. Shit is so fucked up right now because of them. I am mentally drained, exhausted, and tell myself to keep pushing on. But another part of me wants to eat in bed and tune everything out. I feel like soon after Trump was elected four years ago, dysfunction became normalized. And his absolute lack of competence and the onset of COVID-19 has just compounded that, on top of Americans having to contend with basically everything we see on the news on a daily basis along with all of fucked up racism Black people and other minorities in this country face. Seven months of staying home and quarantining with a recent uptick in cases all over America has made life feel like this never-ending cycle of hopelessness. There are days and moments where things might feel okay, but when it comes down to it, this pandemic is still happening—and as of now, 220,000 Americans have died because of it and over 8 million have contracted COVID-19. It's like, how does one even process this without breaking down into tears? We are living in a crisis. I am numb at this point and try and force myself to forge on with my days, but I have my moments. This continuous feeling of isolation and loneliness sometimes feels like too much. I mean, I definitely only felt the warmth of another body on my skin a handful of times in the past few years, but dealing with this same problem throughout 2020 definitely feels extra difficult. Whenever I am actually faced with (or allow myself to) to grasp the realities of right now or how life was before COVID-19, I can't help but shed tears from despair. I woke up today remembering the day after the 2016 election. I won't ever forget it because going to work that morning, it wasn't just me who was in shock. I remember getting on the subway and it was complete silence and stillness, even though the train was filled with people. In all of my life of living in NYC, it was a remarkable sight to see. Nobody was talking, nobody was staring into their phones, nobody was doing anything. Everyone just seemed paralyzed in a sense, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Just the thought of having to relive that trauma again feels overwhelming. I just want to make it through the rest of October, period. I'm not aiming to achieve or accomplish anything. All I want is to get through it as best as I can.

N95 face masks for the subway and enclosed spaces, blue medical masks otherwise.

I recently bought one of those clean linen type of scented candles. And my gosh, I don't know what chemicals they put in this thing but my room really does smell like I just pulled my clothes out of the dryer at the laundromat.

The line at the supermarket today was so long, it pretty much wrapped itself halfway inside the store. As it slowly moved along, I found myself in the frozen food section mesmerized. I couldn't stop staring at the insane amount of variety for Eggo waffles. Different flavors, shapes, cartoons characters, the options were endless. Like, wow.

Happy National Coming Out Day!

The belly paid the bill.
The pals bewildered, popped pills.
The bobby pins screamed shrills.

Then the proper party helped heal.

If it makes you a better writer,
it makes you a better person.
If it makes you a go-getting fighter,
the destination makes it happen.

Weird weekend,
to contend.

No friends,

dead ends.

To care,
is to dare.
Risk what's spare,
hold tight, free airfare.

AOL Instant messenger.
Phone texts.
Grinder.
WhatsApp.
Group chat.
Slack.
Still no response back.

"If you believe in yourself enough, 
and know what you want,
you're gonna make it happen."

From the song Make It Happen by Mariah Carey.

"Here we go around again,
one more time,
will it ever end?"

From the song Here We Go Around Again by Mariah Carey.

It is 

(so)

much

easier,

to talk this way.

October feels spooky for reals.

There's a lot going on that makes me want to chill.

Often, even a sense of not knowing how to feel.

So I sit with my thoughts in the company of a meal.

Life is all about editing. So rewrite the story from the shitty version the voice in your head came up with.

It's Sunday,

rest, no way.
Just got here,

say hey hey.

"You fill this night with me."

From the song Fill This Night by Clazziquai.

I’ve gotten so used to watching stuff and scrolling through things. But just listening to music is necessary, too.

Woah...