🫖 A short essay today. Hope you enjoy! 🫖
I look out my bedroom window. It is transparent—mostly, that is. There is a careless film of dust and two large handprints from the day that my roommate locked himself out and attempted to claw his way back through the fire escape. I keep intending to wash it off. Apply a touch of Windex. Push the grime around with a few rectangles of paper towel. Inevitably, I will not bring enough to do the job right, which will force me to climb back through the window for more. Another day passes and the handprints are a welcome reminder that it isn’t all that easy to climb into my bedroom. I never thought to worry about it before, living on the fourth floor. Now, in bed, I imagine a figure on the fire escape, casting a shadow over my curtain. The day my roommate locked himself out, the protective metal gates were anchored shut, preventing entry, even if he managed to pry the window open with his two outstretched hands. He had to wait in the darkness of if and when I might come home. I was not responding to his calls or texts. I’ve been having intrusive thoughts and dreams about a man with a gun. I struggle to remember if maybe, I actually walked past a man holding a gun, or if it was just an image from a dream. The day my roommate locked himself out, my phone was sitting on the bedside dresser while I took an unencumbered walk after work. A walk that felt like clarity when I’ve been so muddled. When toasting at the Chelsea Hotel with unkind Sarah Lawrence kids made me feel cheap. When getting dinner with friends made me feel unknown. When taking a shot of whiskey at the cute-bartender-bar made me feel desperate. When postponing a date for the third time made me feel flighty. When having no weekend plans made me feel like a loser. When constantly busying myself made me ill. On my walk, I let my thoughts drizzle free, seduced by the security that I couldn’t satisfy my nearly constant urge to tell anyone anything. By the East River, I touched the bark of a tree, quickly hugged it when I felt confident that no one was looking. I stepped into a community garden and said a silent prayer for my loved ones and for peace and goodness in the world. I walked a woman to a bus stop that would take her back west. She told me her name was Faith. I practiced my singing a little in the stairwell. I let my voice echo against walls that still smell damp after an overnight leak that soaked the ceiling soggy. When I saw five missed calls, I dialed my roommate back immediately, but he was already knocking on the front door. He must have heard me singing in the hall. He was hysterical with relief even though he was only locked out for forty-five minutes. He told me that he realized he left his keys the instant the door clicked shut. It locks itself automatically. He passed the time with our downstairs neighbor, Jessica, whom he informed me, has next to nothing in her apartment. Nothing on the walls, nearly no furniture, a mattress on the floor. He asked if she was moving, but she answered that she just didn’t like owning things That’s when he told me he tried to climb through the fire escape, but he couldn’t get in. He must have seen my secret sandals and ashtray, evidence that I sometimes like to take my breakfast al fresco. A few weeks ago, I found out that my roommate has a camera in his bedroom that sends him a text message whenever it detects movement. I look at the handprints waving from my window and casually consider whether my roommate might have a gun.
9.16.23 Mixtape
In a rare twist of Insecure Tea fate, today’s playlist features all new(ish) music! Releases range from 2021 to, well… yesterday. // First things first, we see you, Mitski! Yesterday, she came out with “The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We,” and from my first few listens, it’s much more to my taste than “Laurel Hell.” It’s all a little relatable, it’s all a little uncomfy. I guess that’s what Miski is all about. In I Don’t Like My Mind, she croons: 🎶 I don't like my mind, I don't like being left alone in a room, with all its opinions about the things that I've done. So, yeah, I blast music loud, and I work myself to the bone. 🎶 Ouchie! I enjoy how this album embraces certain elements of country. The trajectory from rock to pop to country reminds me of the place where Elvis Costello arrived when he released “Almost Blue”—I remember reading in his memoir that he was sick of all his precocious wordplay and wanted to sing simple, straightforward, yearning songs from the heart. Mitski has never had trouble being uncomfortably earnest, and I am greatly enjoying the way she has applied this to a new style. // Secondarily, we have Seeing Things by Charlie Hickey, a paranoid anthem to align with my current mental state. 🎶 I bet we're in a room and I'm checking my blindspots. I bet I think something is wrong and it's not. 🎶 That is a safe bet, and one I can relate to. // 🎶 Safety and danger, there’s no place left to hide, 🎶 sings Amber Sport in a spacey song called Safety and Danger. I can’t say with confidence that this is a good song or a good band, but I enjoy the vibe. The Tiny Tim vocals and album cover that gives off the impression of Ke$ha circa 2010 are a bit perplexing in this, the year 2023, but once again, I don’t mind it. // The new Current Joys album “LOVE + POP” is fucking good, and it’s super cool to see a band I saw at Echoplex in high school continue to evolve with the times. 🎶 Put down your phone and try to touch me 🎶 entreats Nick Rattigan’s wavery voice in I feel truth inside of u. For a guy who has been known for clattery beep boop sadboy indie rock, this album has sick range. // And lastly, my latest obsession: the sweet May Rio. I’ve heard her name bouncing around the downtown scene for more than a year now but hadn’t managed to listen to her music until this week. As it turns out, both of her EPs are really great. In I’m Not Crazy, she sings 🎶 I’m not crazy, I say to the bug on my wall. 🎶 My window is gaping open to drink in the cool air that finally seems here to stay. A big black fly darts inside and circles churlishly around my head.
🫖 That is all. Until next time. 🫖
Really love this!! Beautifully written.
i love the simple elegance with which you capture your big city blues/self awareness/doubt here "A walk that felt like clarity when I’ve been so muddled. When toasting at the Chelsea Hotel with unkind Sarah Lawrence kids made me feel cheap. When getting dinner with estranged friends made me feel unknown. When taking a shot of whiskey at the cute-bartender-bar made me feel desperate. When postponing a date for the third time made me feel flighty. When having no weekend plans made me feel like a loser. When constantly busying myself made me ill." And "cute-bartender-bar..." has a great roll to it.
And hugging the tree when you are sure you wouldn't be seen, singing in the stairwell - the aside about your breakfast al fesco - so many crafty little reveals.
Have you read Katherine Mansfield's short stories? Not sure why she comes to mind - maybe your writing reminds me of hers.
Anyway a pleasure to read.