Starbucks Reserve 2

All over San Francisco I see these billboards that say “defy agism,” or something like that. At first I thought they were stupid, but now I am starting to get the point. I have been feeling my age. I am only 27! I have some issues with my body [broken shoulder, aches+pains] that maybe don’t make my life symmetrical that of a normal 27 y/o, but still I am young, there is no denying this. My grandfather has called 50 a “young age!” Everything is relative. 

 

The internet is fucking complicated. I want so badly to be integrated with it. I think Elon has a solution to this fomo I speak of. To not know everything, is to know nothing. Welcome to the year 2020.

 

It’s not actually 2020 yet. The day is Christmas Eve! 2019, and the time is 10:29. Today was a little more exciting than expected, because Jo brought me some bread. She messaged me and telling me ‘merry christmas eve,’ and asked if I wanted a loaf of bread. Is it weird that, pretty much, the only thing I was thinking about from the time she messaged me until the time she left was sex? The answer is yes. I am obviously very attracted to Jo, but I would have rather been thinking of something else. The thought of sex makes decision making difficult. When I broke up with Jo in October I really had it on my mind to never see her again. It’s hard to stop talking to someone you don’t have any problems with, you know? But obviously I have my reasons. I was not a good idea for me to accept this bread from Jo this morning. I’m going to eat it, I guess. It’s going to be good bread. But it’s going to make me very sad I think, and I don’t like feeling sad. I’m sad enough as it is. I need to do what is healthy for me, which means the only thing I need to do right now it meet new people. In the year 2020, I will be more aggressive to get the things that I want. 

 

I walked with Jo all the way to the BART station, and before she left I hugged her for a very long time. I didn’t feel good about it afterwards. I was, again, only doing what would make me feel good. I guess I don’t think she wanted to hug me. But then why did she bring me bread? It doesn’t matter. I’m spending too much time thinking about it. Most of the stuff I write like this, I delete straight away, because I literally don’t wanna think about it. 

 

The death of my progression has probably been my apartment. Still, I will continue to work around my apartment, instead of addressing the situation head on.

 

I feel a little better. Maybe it’s this coffee??? I am currently at Starbucks on Main and Mission. I went to El Faro after I left the BART station. Burrito for breakfast wasn’t a good idea, in hindsight. I ate a chicken, black bean, rice, and guacamole burrito, and when she asked if I wanted it spicy I said “ys,” and when she asked if I wanted a wet burrito I said ‘yes.” I paid $8.73. Good price. I stayed at El Faro while I ate, and I enjoyed my meal thoroughly. They must use good ingredients. That was my second time eating their food. Pretty sure I ate in the building both times…

 

Afterwards I walked to this Starbucks because they sell the reserve goods here. I be on dat goodgood nowadays. 

 

My arm has been having a weird twitch in it all morning. Carrying this backpack around with me is almost certainly not a good thing, and I do it everyday. My right hand often has a discomfort while I write. It’s not debilitating, but it’s not fun either. My right ring finger that feels tight. sxedrftgybhnumjik eye get a little squeamish writing about this right stuff, but once it’s out there, I won’t have problems with it’s existence. Maybe my arm feels weird because I slept on my side last night? Can you imagine a life of only sleeping on your back? For the rest of your life? That’s my situation. Sleeping on my side is certainly not good for me. 

 

The time is 11:08. I am going to finish this espresso and wander around the city. I need to be ready to 2020. I got about a week. [the time is 11:28 and I finished editing. That wasn’t so hard! I need to be more rapid with my postings. I wrote like 3 pages this week, and I have yet to edit them. I may never! Once the moment is gone I feel so meh about posting that stuff. A lot of the writing was about Miss Ambigram]

 

Spark Twain

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