“The way I kept dancing when the song was over, because it freed me."
— Not Even This, Ocean Vuong
I write software but the world keeps getting buggier. Ha.
If you've ever been to San Francisco you'd know what I mean.
New Yorkers act like one big fucking ornery family.
Californians talk to their plants. Yeah.
Before, I thought that lyrics were just noise without a sound. These days I pay attention. Even my tuna breath's gone melodic.
These days I’m a beautiful mess. Even a broken record can fucking course-correct.
Wave goodbye to migraines from the tin of my mouth. Goodbye.
The way dusk enters the room and you think it's dawn and time to wake up soon. Oh.
The way every bit of you gets replaced until your past selves only share in common a name. Hm.
The way your parents soften once you leave them.
The way your ex hardens once you leave them.
The way love falls away like a 10 lb durian.
The way love comes back smelling like a 10 lb durian.
Again only the algorithms really understand what I’m saying. Whoop.
They recommend I listen to Faye Wong's 悶 while the earth‘s hibernating.
I don’t know what 悶 means but I see a 心 behind a 門 and damn that really gets to me.