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its nothing that hasn’t been said before a thousand times. Im back in Philadelphia and we’re both different. I go to a fancy cocktail bar that’s opened on the road I’ve only ever been down to get to my ex‘s apartment. there were fewer businesses then, and many buildings were shuttered and dark. now there are high rises where there used to just be skeleton structures of plywood and plastic. I get coffee with two friends I introduced just before I left, and it’s sweet and strange to see the new flower of a friendship there that I didn’t watch grow. I take the bus down Washington Ave and try to catch a glimpse down the street my best friend used to live on, at the rooftop where we laughed and cried and sang and smoked and took five hundred thousand pictures of ourselves silhouetted against the skyline. I get lunch with my ex in his new neighborhood, eating at the diner we ordered delivery from when we had to quarantine together in late 2020. We talk about therapy and new partners and change. I take the regional rail out to the suburbs to see an old coworker who now has a baby. She shows me pictures from their family’s Christmas. I sit backwards on the way home, letting my eyes relax the row homes into a blur until im almost sick. A flock of starlings flies next to the train, gliding through the air for an almost unbelievable amount of time even with their wings closed. The birds all suddenly alight in a tree and the train pulls away.
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I hadn't been to Washington in years. I had foggy memories of Seattle--the way the city is both dark and vibrant, plants overtaking front lawns and vines dripping off freeway overpasses. How forgotten cars on side streets are slowly overcome by moss and seem to decay like wet logs in a forest. I wanted to see it again and do some solo traveling in the Pacific Northwest, so I flew in with a full itinerary and rented a car.
My best friend Lucien and his partner had just bought a house in Seattle and I was the first guest. Before I even landed, they were enlisting me to help hang frames and paintings. As I made my way down Rainier Ave, things started to look familiar, or feel familiar. Like finding yourself back in a reoccurring dream. This feeling got stronger and stronger as I got closer and closer to the little pin on my phone’s map, my friend’s address. I pulled onto their street and parked. And stared.
My mom lived in Seattle when I was in 8th grade, and I would visit her. She lived in this little house, directly across the street from where my friend was still unpacking boxes and getting forwarded mail. Around the corner was the shopping plaza I would run to get Chinese for us, where I would play Street Fighter on the arcade. Down the street was the park where I played soccer. Up the hill was a bank with a gnarled tree that always fascinated me. Places that seemed so vague before but were now so real. 20 years later!
Mar 29, 2024
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a weekend back in my hometown did this for me ! upon arrival i was like wow i am doing so well in comparison to how i was when i was living here as a teenager. and after three days i am listening to philadelphia shoegaze with a pit in my stomach and an oppressive sense that i may never leave this place………
Jun 24, 2024
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My friend was back in the city after a year. My hair was getting long again. We took a day off to just walk around and visit our favorite places. I was feeling good. We were getting on the train and *snap* a picture of me feeling happy in the light of my friend
Jan 31, 2025
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Jun 15, 2024
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Put on the robe, turn on adult swim or whatever, crank the ac, eat a late night snack in one bed and sleep in the other. The freedom of impersonal liminal space.
Oct 21, 2024
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hundreds of thousands of times over
The context may be different but no emotion is completely new— i can cope
Aug 1, 2024