things i love…

  1. when all four members of phish are in a circle, with their heads together, smiling and laughing at something mike gordon says, then turning all together towards me, telling me that despite my own attitude towards my ego, it’s really not that big—not too big—and that my active childhood, social-justice-wise, makes up for a recent laziness and i still deserve love and success more than others who appear to be more deserving at the present moment
  2. slapping my friend yofe on his backpacked shoulder but he has a place to put his backpack nearby before we go out, which is the reason why i’m slapping him on the shoulder, in a “let’s go, this is exciting that we are together for a while without the burden of carrying around backpacks!” way
  3. small storage locations throughout the city that are app-friendly and that have good lighting and are also big-lockered enough to fit a backpack or two
  4. a just-showered woman in knee-high socks at an all-inclusive resort, who i meet at a costume party, who is zooey deschanel, whose breasts are suppler and more firm than other less supple, more disappointing breasts
  5. becoming my generation’s jack kerouac, and using that goal as an excuse to do different drugs, or just lots of one type of drug! and teaching my generation—AND ALL GENERATIONS, YES!—that it is OK to try hard at art and put it on Facebook, even though it’s so goddamn weird and maybe not even that smart—more try-hard smart than actual smart?—but you love it because you are sure that it is unique and never done before, and you tell yourself that people get that you are playing with vulnerability and going against the grain of the common SJW branding-oneself Facebook statuses that are resplendent through my generation’s—AND ALL GENERATIONS’, YES!—need to feel like they’re looking good in front of everybody
  6. getting so drunk and chatty tonight! and really vibing the night’s locale in Bushwick, which is perfect for this—getting so drunk and chatty—and the bars don’t smell like too much beer-breath yet and you are the coolest one there and you have a Perfect Conversation with someone where you imagine and expect all that is to be said and Yofe is there and you end up marrying the person
  7. family parties where jack and matthew and sarah and i are all in the same room, where our bigness helps our perception of godliness and big-deal-ness, where i remembered to bring my bluetooth speaker, where the convo-avoidees have, for the most part, left, and EE is still hanging out and hasn’t mentioned that she has to leave yet, and it’s christmas for the next 10 days, and we’re all on a cruise ship, bound for Alaska that Dad won, and Tania is being so loud and obnoxious and we’re all laughing way too much, and Lindsay is there to archive the memories, and we just dance and dance and dance and talk about future space shit, and maybe even some weed is introduced on the top deck later on underneath all the beautiful incandescent stringed-bulb lighting, it’s all four of us and mom, and i assume weed-leader position, and we all make mom feel so at-ease and tell her how grateful we are for her, how amazing she is, how if she thinks about all the worse moms, how easy it is to rationalize being a bad mom in a bad mom’s head, how, yes, she is who she is because she was born with this trait and that trait and was raised well, she has also had to make tough decisions, unselfish decisions, to be the best mom possible, and we thank her and we all smoke a few hits even though we don’t need it mood-wise, freedom-wise for the night, but it does help with awake-ness, and we all go back downstairs to the ClubZone to do a little bit of dancing bluetooth-less, and i grab Sarah’s hands and we break out our choreographed routine to Phish’s “Sand”, and i meet Zooey Deschanel later on that night also
  8. feeling tight and not having anymore stretch marks all over the sides of my body, and showering before dressing up all fancy and going to a wedding downtown, on a springy fall night, and my shoes are a little too big but they’re slippery, good for future controlled slipping, and touching peoples shirts it feels like cold silky velvet, and I’m more aware of my walking than normal, and in the wedding it’s open bar and my job is solely to enjoy myself
  9. mom’s bread dip bowl—the one that’s cheesy and has salsa in it and maybe cream cheese—with unlimited, toasted, crustless bread to dip with
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