A Chair is Still a Chair, Even When There's No One Sitting There

everyone's so esoteric and avant-garde these days well here's the thing: the real avant-garde is hidden in 66 year old men who wear black jeans and hiking boots to every gig and librarian-esque women with glasses and blazers who shred so hard on their instruments they bleed it is not hidden in tory burch sunglasses or tiktoks with teal font or the movie secretary

got called babe by my older female mentor who is the most beautiful woman in the world and is also a mirror of me and me of her and then i had an unrelated breakdown and left the office and accidentally took a 30 minute crazy walk around the city and when i got back she had left me cherries in a paper cup next to my laptop and it meant so much to me it made me cry #happypride

maybe it’s my fault for being on the internet as a coping mechanism but i just saw one of those summer aesthetic inspo instagram reels and they said they’re “pinning” listening to albums from start to finish and i’m wondering what we are even doing anymore

all my friends who i haven’t seen in a month were in the same room at the pilot arts lecture series im curating for my new job (which also had an incredible turnout) and my friend/neighbor heard my string trio rehearsing in my apartment living room and yelled my name up to me and told us we sounded great and i shared fridge clean out dinner with said string trio friends who made the house warm and i genuinely enjoy my commute to ******** and things are starting to feel ok

when the only thing that’s even barely reliving my stress-induced need to die is listening to richard carpenter’s terrible solo career