transcriptions


no. 230

date 6/19/25

time: 6:35


airport


i love seeing all the randomized sims at the airport. partly i wish i had brought the full journal, to think about the last time i was at an airport. (child screams: it's going! it's going! it's so big!) i remember a feeling of elation that time. compliment to my gudetama shirt. who could i have been thinking about? it's hard to say. maybe no one. maybe that's why i felt so happy. (a task presents itself: checking the bag.)


(on the flight now.) alarmingly i am thinking about the painter, who i should probably stop thinking of as the painter - i think it shuts off possible pathways of thought / critical examination - pathways i must keep open, even when he "looks kind," when he practiced chess on the plane to mexico, took pictures of graffiti, ordered the same cider - "it's been so long"


(at laguardia, baggage claim carousel #8.) i tried, as the plane lifted, to imagine the air and distance beneath me, growing, containing the painter & the terraphile, though i did have some thought about how different they feel to hold - the painter something a little rotten, the terraphile a tiny hard gem. lately a tendency to put things down, to reseal my appetite, in moments when i expect to indulge. (i will likely not finish the latte.) monday night, noting the matching drink, the dark warming eyes, the changing of seats. nothing in me wanted to lean in. in fact i felt something leave me to keep watch from the outside. i would not have touched [] now, with this brain. i would have called the uber or even walked home - it can't have been that far back to campus - washed my face & gone to bed. (that is the really crazy thing, that i didn't wash my face.) sometimes it's like trying to remember a dream / possession. i lacked a certain capacity for honesty within myself & towards others. prioritizing honesty & focus is the most important thing now


(the man at the taxi stand asks the mother: are you gonna need a car seat? how are you guys feeling? as he opens the door...)



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