Wake up at 10. Scroll through the social media feeds. Realize there’s nothing new. Stop scrolling.
Get out of bed. Put on gifted pants and a secondhand shirt. Brown Birkenstocks. Check watch, phone, keys, car keys. Down the stairs. Check yourself in the mirror.
Leave a light on. Leave the house. Press the ‘unlock’ button on the car key.
THE CAR: RIDE ONE
Get in the car.
Start the engine. The radio will start automatically. Plug in Kanye West. Any album, but not KIDS SEE GHOSTS or Yeezus. Volume at max on your phone, 20 on the radio. Car in reverse, before you know it you’ve left your home street.
Turn down the windows while driving. Feel the wind through your shirt. Smoke a cig.
Left, right, straight ahead, park.
You’re a regular, so try to feel at home under the fluorescent lights. Enter the amount due on the card reader yourself. Order 12 chicken wings and a Zero Coke. Chat with the Turkish snackbar owner.
He shows you a picture of traditional Turkish clothing. Oh no, it’s Kurdish. The Turk is a Kurd. You know there’s a big difference and feel sorry towards him for assuming. You show him a picture of yourself from 10 years ago.
Three 15-year olds have a seat. They talk about women for money, drug dealers, women who want drug dealers for money. Try to listen. Try to put yourself in their shoes.
Eat the chicken wings. Drink the coke. Thank the Kurd. Get a second Coke on credit. Get called a Good Guy And You Can Pay Whenever You Want Because You’re Always Welcome. Leave.
Light a cigarette and take a HDR photo with your phone of the entrance to the train station because you like that it’s a beacon of light in the night.
THE CAR: RIDE TWO
Repeat some of the steps in THE CAR: RIDE ONE. You know which ones. But play Filipino music this time.
Take the long route home. Drive through the whole district. But drive slow, homie.
Strip down to your yellow America Today boxershorts and hop in bed. Open up your laptop and look at the guest list for your party. Be content. Send messages to some people.
You need to start writing again. Might as well share this feeling of freedom. Write about what you did on your blog while listening to Underappreciated-By-You albums of West. Favourite the songs that you like.
The night is young: Consider night painting.
May you have a full tummy, a good night of sleep and sunny dreams.