here is my new bedroom/i don’t know where my home is.

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i moved a few weeks ago & it’s been mostly hard. the past 6 (6!!) years have been mostly full of residential stability. i had kind of forgotten how hard it is to be in a place that doesn’t feel like your home. how hard it is to give up somewhere that you love. i chose to leave my last house, and i don’t regret that decision, even though being in my new house has made my life more complicated.

still. i painted the walls purple, because it’s the color of creativity, queerness, transformative change. already, my life and my work are beginning to change in this new space.

i called amanda on my break from work. she just had a hard move too. we talked about what made us feel better in the new spaces and they were very similar: unpacking our books and seeing them on the shelf. re-arranging furniture. dancing. last night i lit a candle and turned the lights off. i danced in a small corner of the room and it was the first moment where it truly felt right. being there, i mean.

i had a bad day there the other day, one of those bad days that just folds in on itself until you are convinced that everything in your life is horrible and completely disposable. i was daydreaming about moving back to pittsburgh. life is so much simpler there. i know the odd quirks of the city like one would know the strange habits of a lover. i’m never going to know the bay like that. plus, i’m never going to afford a room in a house, in a neighborhood, quiet enough for me to sleep in. i missed my friends, community, a certain indescribable feeling.

my boyfriend picked me up & we looked at the water at the marina, which helped. i saw asher the next day and we talked about the ways that pittsburgh can fail us too, how it’s easy to romanticize but not always the best answer.

so. i don’t know what to say, really. i have no idea where i’m going in life but feel like i’m heading for a change. keep drawing the “death” card in tarot, which means intense change, a reworking of a prior life, something you can’t see coming. i also keep getting “the hanged man”, which generally means being stuck, resisting something that is inevitable, not learning from your past mistakes. i’m not sure what this is supposed to mean.

visiting my old home tonight, i was lying on the couch, talking to my boyfriend, as he sat across me in the chair we found in the trash, the one that cut his hand while we wrestled it into the car but that everyone loves so much anyway. he sighed, “you look so pretty right now,” and i asked him to take a picture so i could see. he took this picture, in the dim light, on my shitty cell phone. i don’t know if you’ll think it’s pretty. i don’t know if what he saw translated or not. it’s so hard to tell what other people see, if i am attractive or not, if any of it matters, where i will go, what i am doing, what i look like, where i am.

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