time moves, whatever

i'm getting fettuccini alfredo and cheesecake for dinner so i can at least feel a little bit 'fancy' while being broker than a serf. i get this strange pleasure out of things feeling 'normal'. i remember when my ex boyfriend moved into his new apartment i loved the feeling of walking around a clean, new kitchen. spotless and completely lacking of memories and character. there was something so mature about it, i suppose. ive really glamorized what it means to be an adult and what that might look like. a place all my own, identity firm and stagnant, choices that are only mine. i guess i get that emotional high out of my system through drunken cigarettes on the juliette balcony and cleaning the stove with a dollar tree sponge

i looked forward to being an adult as a kid because i pictured it being all ice cream for dinner and cashing checks. but for me coming into adulthood more felt like cocaine withdrawal and cutting my own bangs over the bathroom sink because theres no point in wasting money on a haircut. i didnt expect it to be this slow and lonely. theres so many steps it takes to be your own person and im struggling to fathom them, never mind complete them in the slightest. i dont even particularly want to be well off at all, i just want to be independent without being afraid or confused. im sick of feeling like a confused child roaming through clothing racks amazed at how tall everything seems

im going to stop mulling on how different everything is from being six and start thinking about how different everything is from being thirteen. im happy now. things are okay. i have an unlit marlboro pressed between my lips because i dont want to set it down in my ashtray yet. tastes like shitty iced coffee

ta-ta for now!

-k.s