23 August 2018


Convenience stores are 3AM city stars. I'm inside one in this soft hour waiting for a ride home.

I'm not used to this anymore—

Like the buses. At sixteen all you want is to move away from home. And once the party's over, sometime between dark and dawn, you will find a way back. No fear. Not even drunken drivers or unlit streets can cause panic. You think it and you're there.

Like the all-nighters. Whether at work or play. For all my life I was an owl and hated myself. Now I rise a little earlier than the sun.

—As I'm getting used to other things.

Like saying I'm in bed all day doing nothing. And that I wouldn't budge for anything unworthy of my precious, ever-dwindling resources. This self-employed life. It's not a matter of when I'm free but when I've cash. Also how much I like you.

Like saying I only work 30 hours a week and that's all I need.

Because I can't be bothered with the unexciting anymore. Subtraction's negative sign doesn't sign negativity. Try harder convincing me that happiness is impossible without sacrifices.

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