5/30/2020

I wake up in the morning. The bird song filtered through my comforter. I cry twice, tears clouding my vision, the haze of condensation turns the bathroom into a twinkling back porch.

I wake up in the morning. My emotional BPM is no match for the coffee grinder, causing beans to spill over a counter top, scattering in a rhythm I wish I could grasp.

I start my workday. My orange jacket attracts gnats, giving me a hug as I gaze at my masked neighbors on the stoop, their eyes as downtrodden as mine. The birds are too chipper, leaking through my headphones as I offload my emotions to Moses Sumney.

I start my workday. My hands shaking over the home row, intercepting the emotions of my coworker’s digital rectangles. I feel the energy of my ancestors and my kin 1,020 miles away. Blackness unlocks a telekinetic energy.

The sun begins to set. I fall asleep to the glow of TikTok.

The sun begins to set. I fall asleep during the second Shabbat siren.

—

To aid my depressive state, I made a playlist, “lying in bed listening to birds chirp through the leakage of headphones” [Spotify / Apple Music] and a composition, “for george, breonna, ahmaud, and christian”. To fuel my anger, I made a playlist, “ANGER IS A VALID EMOTION” [Spotify / Apple Music].

I hope y’all are doing OK.