natalie kucken

diary 15 (september 13)

september i don't know about i didn't bring my camera around much and that's directly related to my memory. i spent entire afternoons laying in the grass around brooklyn, people always seemed to be staying with me. i went to museums alone and would walk around the quiet neighborhoods in manhattan staring into the pretty apartment lobbies and pretend that i was going into them for a moment or two. i worked through so many sleepless nights that i drove myself to fainting from exhaustion one morning. i usually read quite a bit but i can't bring myself to even open up a book right now. i've been noticing lately how many beautiful things and scenes and people that i see daily, a kid pressing their hand up against the subway's closed door window as it's about to leave the station, a bunch of balloons caught on a streetlight, a huge scattered pile of sweetener packets on the sidewalk on sunday at dawn left over from some drunken activity, an old lady quietly rearranging the flowers she bought in the takeaway paper on her doorstep of a busy street, the range of people that ask me for a lighter daily, i don't know there are so many little things that i see that i wouldn't if i didn't live in this city and if i wasn't always out. when i was a kid i used to open up a microsoft word document and try to hit two letters on the keyboard at the same exact time and hold them down and see which one would be typed, and i feel like that a lot of the time now. the blue-haired boy came back, only his hair was all grown out and his leg was broken. developed a chronic cough where my lungs turned inside out, rain kept ruining all of my plans. every fourth person walking down bleecker street says hello to me. i kept getting messages from old and new and important and not-close friends that made me want to cry, more than usual. i wish that i could specify them so that i can read this back in a long time and remember them how sad and sweet they were but that's not how public blog posts work. a lot of people threw out mirrors this month and i picked up and took home every one except for one that i couldn't get up four flights of stairs without hurting myself. i don't need luck i don't need to make a wish at 11:11 i don't need to make sure that i wash my hands for 17 seconds so that my dreams will come true. 

1 comment:

  1. the way you described your feeling with your childhood memory about hitting two letters on the keyboard at the same time made me chuckle. i will think of this today.