january 13, 2025
stream of conscience i.
'
monday morning. cold. put fifty dollars in my tank and i’m on my meds again. just got an email about tax season, which reminded me of the never ending churn of this machine, of my own folly, of my desperate desire to be outside of my own body. does that ever go away? i scheduled a therapy appointment for thursday. my first in almost a year. i hope my therapist will talk about her brand new baby. i hope insurance will spit back the money her new scheduling app will take from me. i don’t have $150 to spare. i open twitter, then instagram, then my email again. rinse. repeat.
i need to schedule a gyno appointment. i haven’t had a physical in four years. i should care more about my health than i do, but just the thought sends me spiraling again. oh, this mortal coil. ect ect.
there are flies in my house, fat and full of blood, feasting on the spoiled remains of my roommate’s ex boyfriend. i killed one against the wall as i was putting on my coat this morning and it left a dark red stain. i should remember to clean off my house slippers on the balcony when i return. there are no forks in this office which means i will be eating this frozen rice with a knife. my mother asks“april, why didn’t you pack a fork?” and i am inexplicably angry for a good ten minutes. does she not understand how fragile i am right now? this is not the time nor the place.
i read a substack about journaling when i should be sending an email and i think about my half-finished moleskin. all those seedy, blank pages. the possibility of them sends shivers down my spine. isn’t it so sexy to imagine yourself as someone with more to say? how i long for crates stacked high with the mess of me, all of my $26 hardbacks straining at their elastic seams.
now i am thinking about how it’s been too long since i shaved all the hair off my body. i keep getting ads for electric razors, of which i have three and use none. this one promises no bumps! no ingrowns! i imagine how shiny and smooth i would be with this new razor that costs $30 but is selling for $14.55 on the tiktok shop. like a baby walrus. i have not thought about walruses in… i can’t recall a time i’ve ever actively thought about walruses actually. i google “baby walrus” to see if this analogy is fitting. the answer appears to be… sometimes? sometimes baby walruses are hairless, save for whatever is happening on their faces, which now makes the analogy feel very personal and poignant and also a bit embarrassing. i won’t delete it.
this is called growth.
a tiny fly just landed on the notepad beside my left hand. they are following me now. they know i have participated in the execution of their brethren. what happened in my home last night was a mass casualty event; all of us cruel and immovable as we slowly poisoned the battalion of flies with raid. this morning, the floors were sticky with residue, white and tacky beneath my shoes. i do not feel sorry for them. it is january. they shouldn’t exist anyway.
thinking now about how i call my apartment a house, how everywhere i lay my head is home. when we were in new york, i said “and then we’ll walk home” and my roommate said “well, the hotel” and i said, “same thing”. i paid $100 for lip gloss last week but i can fall asleep anywhere.
i’m going to leave the office early. there is no one here to stop me. i feel weird now that i’ve seen the fly, now that we’ve looked at each other and known ourselves for what we are. this space is now a shared space. i do not play well with others. i think i’ll go to my parent’s house and say goodbye to my uncle, who has been in town the last two weeks. i like to think that i am his favorite niece, because i am the youngest and the cutest. i am not visiting him so that he will give me money. but i’m also not not visiting him for that reason. there is a very delicate balance being struck here, you understand. like i said, i spent $100 on lip gloss last week. clearly, i am not a woman to be judged right now.
oh. i just killed the fly.
i am a goddess among men. and also insects.
to be clear, there is no dead body in my apartment right now. just in case you were wondering.
xx,
april
Another hit. You can’t be stopped! ❣️
Sticky followed by To Someone From a Warm Climate is hilarious and also concerning