The Park of Central
Woke up. Slowly, it was a crazy night last night that for whatever reason leaves my keys and wallet in a pair of dress pants with a tennis ball on my bed. What happened? And why is there lotion everywhere? Pfffft.
Bed, pipe, shower, no time for food. Gotta get outside, too many days have gone by with nothing but chills and cold keeping me down and out. Avoiding this effect of cold as much as possible from here on out, even if it means fucking going to sleep with a hat on. Nothing says “SAD” like no sun, most bullshit name for a disorder ever by the way.
Diane said she almost died from her allergies, hope that doesn’t happen she is pretty awesome and I’d like her to stick around. Got on the train, lots of happy people wearing comfy-oh-my-god-soft/less-than-usual-amounts-of clothing; and I can’t help but feel delighted with all the smiles around me. Train packed with silly white-blondes from out of state. Got guilty and decided to buy an m&m from the guy selling them in the train.
Apparently, she wound up on the same train as me… go figure. Went to the park, found a good spot, attempted and failed to try and get Diane to play magic, and wound up just drinking wine, smoking it up with some fellow new yorkers, and legitimately feeling heavenly laying in her lap look at the sky through the trees.
Somehow made it to borders, although I have no idea why, somehow made it to starbucks, again no idea exactly why, and yet again made it to the train, except that one was for goodbyes. Got home, and I’ve been watching catch me if you can ever since.