There is a pizza in the microwave. It is sitting there as I wait to act upon it. I can smell it from the next room over. There is a song on Spotify which I found that I had fallen in love with before. It is a Salt Lake City hymn for the movie continuing on here now in the city of New York with a job at a bookstore while one of the other members of the trifexis is a hairdresser and the other making mock Adult Swim videos to promote his second poetry volume.

“I travel” I tell the redheaded girl at the bookstore after she asks if I didn’t find Portland a good enough place to live.

“What do you do, besides this?” she asks.

I told her that I don’t do anything. She told me she dances and teaches yoga. She is from Washington D.C. I couldn’t restrain myself from telling her that it was cool, her doing all that stuff. But I know that I am better. Because basic is the new black. Post that on Twitter and watch how many new followers you get. Five to me is like five thousand to some other people. But one person reading my writing is enough. I’ve learned that the long way.

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