the little things

I spent Friday night studying at the coffeeshop down the street watching men compare notes about their grindr apps and a couple out on an awkward first date, within an hour they were looking at their phones after several conversational nonstarters, and then I walked home, thankful that I can walk home at night in these parts without trepidation. My parents came by this week to drop off a table from my great-uncle's house and my mom was concerned about my walking home from there, and while it is an urban neighborhood, it's also one that's full of people walking down that stretch, and people hanging out on balconies, and so I don't have too much concern.


I feel almost guilty having nice things, having people move nice things for me, maybe it's still being in college mode or something, having only bought a coffee table, having everything else given or left behind by previous roomies. This stuff is still free too but then I'm figuring out what to get rid of and end up taking apart a broken plywood ikea dresser that the previous guy left in my art room, yanking out the nails, ripping the plywood off the sides, that it comes apart with minimal tools and my weak arms is a testament to its cheapness.

There was this incredible lightning storm going down the other night, I thought I saw the spire of the West Side Market get struck and this flash of green and blue light, the most intense lightning and the closest I've seen in a long time. I haven't driven through rain like that in awhile and when it died down, bandmate came over and we wrote our favorite stuff yet, and then chilled out listening to music for awhile, talking and losing all sense of time.We seem to have caught the sound we want even this early on, and continue to tweak our tones and spiral out riffs and chords until we get tired, which seems to happen sooner these days.