How to fight loneliness: midnight run for a wheel of cheese and rice crackers from the Duane Reade, sexual postcards to friends, favorite pen.
Earlier tonight I borrowed a bike, messenger bag, helmet and lights from Tony and Caroline, and biked from their Greenpoint apartment back to my own. The feasibility of this was encouraging. Distances and directions make much more sense to me on a bicycle; the subway, on the other hand, is a black box I incorrectly and bewilderedly emerge from at least once per round trip.
Where the fuuuuuck am I, says the expression on my face, what is that smell, what liquid just dripped on my face, where is that woman with the stroller going, did the liquid just enter my eyes, why is that child screaming, how did I get so hungry, where the fuuuuuuuuuck am I?