I don’t want to feel alive.

Hello, June.

Don’t let me down now.

Although, to be perfectly honest, you’ve been fairly amazing already.

I already have two jobs for this summer, one of which will allow me to see the Frida Kahlo exhibit at SF MOMA before ANY museum members or the general public.

Most of my summer will be spent downtown between the Powell and Montgomery BART stations.


I asked years ago what falling in love felt like to you. You replied that it was so hard to describe, but that you’d never felt so alive before and you weren’t sure that was what you wanted.

It’s taken me far too long to understand that. Sometimes I don’t want to feel alive either. It requires a vulnerability I have difficulty coping with; it’s an admission with so many convoluted facets.

It’s much simpler otherwise.

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