a few thoughts:
is there an asmr for watching cream get dropped into black coffee? it makes me wanna cry. reminds me of that john green line in the fault in our stars, I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once.
i’ve lived in dc for a few weeks now. i like it, but i have some observations.
what’s up with the minute long crosswalk signs? unnecessary, imho.
i was told there would be more snow. where is it?
the buffet’s are good. i fucking life a casual buffet. eat a little chicken, a little rice. just really great. gotta respect it.
everyone in every bar is talking politics. was eating a little snack last night at this pub and i was overhearing these two boys on a date talk about how they’re not republican but think john mccain would have made a good president. oh, yeah. i’m in dc.
been walking a lot so i’ve been listening to a lot of music. it’s the winter, so it’s sad boi songs. u ever listening to a guy singing these manly sad boi songs and you’re like “this is nice i just hope he’s gay” and then he’s got this line that’s like plz don’t mind me yeah i was looking up your skirt… and it’s just like, c’mon.
i get it, man is horny.
hard tellin’ not knowin’ but… never mind.
i’ve been playing a lot of madden with kev. we came up with the most intricate system for video game football, which is good. essentially, we ran a draft over text and then both chose are line-up’s blind of each other’s lists. there’s been some good matches but he’s whooping my butt. i gotta strategize better. i have him the first three quarters and then i make one mistake and lose the game. he’s just more cool under pressure. gotta respect it but i need a win.
kev has a tendency to run jet sweep’s — which was fine when i understood what he was doing, but he’s started to throw in these jet sweep fakes and i don’t have the solution. finally get my guys over to the right place and he’ll just send it to the tight end for 20 yards. still looking for the perfect defense.
i stayed up until about two a.m. last night when it hit me: i’m not fucking done. i’m not fucking done fighting and neither should you be. i ain’t playing dead cuz i ain’t dead.
folks keep askin’ me about what i’m doing online. well,
“rgk” are my initials. robyn grace kanner.
i’ll probably make it more professional when there’s something to say.
i hate feeling like other people own a part of me — which is essential why i teeter away from having an identity on the internet. especially because i’ve already Been Cool online and know how simple that is but also know how hollow that feeling is.
take what i was doing on instagram — those little poetic one liners. i like writing them. they’re little puzzles. i’m actually still writing them. but i didn’t enjoy feeling like i was making these for you, because i wasn’t. also! they weren’t throw away feelings. there’s this one specific one i wrote that went like walking around chinatown and i’ve got nowhere to go. there’s a bar right here but i’ll steer clear. no friends, no home. there’s this very specific feeling and emotion where that one came from. it’s a very real scene to me and when i gave it to you i didn’t like it. i didn’t like that you had it — even though, the words are pretty far removed from the actual event i was referencing (which is what poetry is all about anyway). i don’t know. it gives you too much of me. i’m fine sending it here because truthfully pals there aren’t exactly a lot of you who read this but when it’s consumed and shared it all feels bad. not good.
and i know, this is coming from me! queen of oversharing. but last year did a number on me — it did a number on who i trust, how i let them in, what part of me they get to see — and there’s nothing wrong with wanting to have a bit of me for me.
i like talking on the telephone. it’s my preferred method of communication — and the project i did last year did get at what i wanted it to. vulnerability in a one-on-one. not everybody got to hear it. just me and the person i was talking — but! and here’s the big but! men made it bad. so i stopped it.
as for twitter, i mean — come on! if i’m reinforcing an overarching strategy, it makes sense to send the “blah blah blah” tweets. you know what i’m talking about. but when i’m not doing that, it doesn’t feel good. no one is ever going to write an original “trump is bad” tweet and tbh how many people actually give a shit about sharing information versus getting a few rt’s on ur pithy and pathetic joke — or, the ones that really bug me, are about our own candidates. bro, i get it. so and so ain’t ur jam. but u are smart enough to know that’s not what the world needs to hear right now. unity, baby. republicans have their horse, have had their horse ready for years. we’re still fussing it out on the practice field. let’s get real.
i’m in total fear that something i write will one day ruin my life so everything above for all you twitter historians let’s make a pact ok.
i don’t call a truce. there’s too much to do.
i’ve been listening to this band that’s made up of some folks i grew up with and it runs me through this range of emotions. one of the gal’s — who, tbh, i wasn’t really tight with — but, you know, we’re close enough to call each other pals — hold on, let me reset. too many em dashes. ok, so she’s gay right and has always had this fem/butch balance that i aspire to. i hear her lyrics and they make me wanna cry not because they’re sad or whatever but because i remember one night when we were both living in portland maine i went to the movies alone and i can’t even remember what i saw but i remember her being on a date there — plus it was one of those late night movies where you get out at 12:30a.m. and the whole movie theater has shut down so it’s such a beautiful serene moment — but back to the movie, i remember thinking about how many hearts, how many thoughts, how many emotions are sitting there in that movie theater and i can’t remember what movie it was but i remember feeling like so many hearts were beating and then when i went to the movies yesterday i had the same feeling like so many thoughts and hearts just bouncing around and how fucking beautiful that moment is how all these people could come together in pure silence and the tension is unbearable. so unbearable. it’s hard to put it into words but maybe it’d be easier to put it in a song or write a line that removes the situation that carries the feeling which, again, is what i was doing before (re: 6) but how good, how good it could feel to be in a room, because that’s all a movie theater is, a room, and know that there is something pouring out of you that’s so fucking true and so fucking real and everything, the whole scene, the thought, it’s just too much, it’s all the gold. the thought alone is gold.