Space

Back in the day, people went to the moon, now all the people sit on their couch and Zoom.

Stuck in a studio, the kitchen is my sisters with a pull out couch and curtain. My partner and on the otherside of the wall. Shimming in between space that is mine and ours— or is it the opposite? To be honest the space is too minuscule to be distinguished. We do it to ourselves, I think, stack on top of each other in big cities like New York City or Tokyo. One day i’d like to go to Tokyo but for now i’ll stick to the dirty Brooklyn alleys. (That might be a misinformation, the cities really never been so clean, thanks COVID-19.)

2020 has been a real reality crusher. I miss 2019, when I felt dead tired from racing around the city; pretending to worry, anxiety from having somewhere to be at every moment of every day. School, work, at a show. Now, it’s wfh, school online and worry what the fuck will be open tomorrow. Will the city shut down again, will I be stuck with no way out? Buried, burrowed in an apartment with the two people I love the most in the whole world… Will they hate me because space is an issue?

We do it to ourselves you know, love and obsess over silly things.

Learning to be a better person always comes after a struggle. I often forget what a turmoil learning can be. Is that what makes this year so difficult? I feel like I am a grandparent now talking to people about the way things used to be (back in 2019), making up diseases like, “Zoom Fatigue,” and complaining that Grubhub takes too long. But, that’s not the real issue. It’s that I don’t know what I am doing and would prefer the way things used to be— not that I knew any better what was actually going on then— but back in my day if you bought a ticket to Mexico, you could swim in the cenotes and drink margaritas on the beach and visit the ruins! Not in 2020, boarders still closed and home is my apartment in Brooklyn, with two goons that I can’t help but think are as over this as I am.