a midnight reverie

one day I won’t live in chinatown. I thought to myself as I walked home from the B train, the wet markets closed for the day, the streets empty. I’ll come back one-day-when and walk these same streets and I’ll feel sad. because these days are over and I won’t live here anymore. I won’t be scrappy and poor and hungry for the future to begin.

this thought made me feel good to be alive, to be young and dumb, to be happy.

thirsty. I wanted another drink. thought about walking into a bar and ordering an old fashioned for one. but I couldn’t muster up the courage and had a blueberry beer on my rooftop instead. I played the voyeur, studying my rear window view. it was all so still, though I could see the neatly made corners of beds between curtains. I wondered if anyone ever watched me. I imagined myself in the window, manically dancing around the room, lip-synching into the mirror. thinking no one can see me. thinking I am invincible.