august 12 2024

Two thotty girls in pink tube tops and black spandex shorts riding in the back of a neon man-drawn caravan. I’m on the second floor of a double decker bus sitting by the window and touching up my lipstick. It is 32 degrees celsius in London today. I walk the streets of Islington all afternoon, radiating questionable vibes under a relentless European sun. There are too many things I cannot mention but what I can say is that, at last, my album is taking shape. Everything falls apart then back together again and again and again and again.

I get my nails done in the morning but I don’t like them at all and so I find a new spot and make an appointment for tomorrow.

I see [redacted] today and that makes me happy. Last year wasn’t a good year for us but we’ve found each other again. Different place. Different time. Different me. Different she. We go to dinner and I watch her laugh the way I’ve always remembered. We share a plate of shishito peppers. She tells me about her new life. I tell her about mine. As we part ways, I squeeze her extra tight.

Afterwards, I walk to meet Darcy and Sol at a pub somewhere near Finsbury Park. We all talk a lot about music and life and Montreal and Toronto and Melbourne and London.

I’m making peace with the past.