i don't have as much trouble falling asleep but i stay asleep for too long. come home in the middle of the night alone and feel completely different now- not ready to be a real person and feel real it's overwhelming i don't know where to place worry or things to care about. continue to ignore what i'm passionate about, but i still notice things, a broken window in a boxing studio above the prada store on broadway and prince, read that one train line was flooded with 27 million gallons of water two winters ago, do the chalked math written on platform columns- 166+40, 166+30, 166+25, a ballon crawling up the underlit outer wall of a church, a girl throwing a new bouquet of flowers in the garbage on a street corner at dawn when we are the only two there, a man stealing a bike being pushed off of it and his screaming face covered in blood. feel heavy hearted when i'm with people, feel heavy hearted when i'm alone. I'm reminded less of being removed when i'm the latter so i choose that more often. modeled for a painter that's lived in the chelsea hotel for forty years, smiled when i talked to my family sitting on my windowsill over the phone and they said they missed my voice, exchanged gifts with my roommates and friends and felt very warm about everything, felt nice to come home and talk to my boy, nice to watch my cafe become a balloon forest and run outside when i saw flurries in the afternoon the last few days of the month.