vivo el mundo

someday when i am wealthy and have free time i will host lavish parties for world cup games and i will have a buffet of foods and boozes from each country playing. in the mean-time i will eat chips and salsa and cashews.

a man just strolled by my building singing a bizarre growling free-style jazz country tune, interspersed with angry grunts and full-body pauses to puff a smoke. i watched him for two blocks.

sometimes i realize that i look forward to some theoretical day where i will feel okay about how i feel in my body forever more, why do i feel like this day exists in the future, can it even, what am i doing so wrong