We have a wool blanket and a bowl full of oranges and windows that face trees and rooftops and friends who dance in big empty rooms and friends who wear sequins on their birthdays and friends who ride bikes through snow. We have puppies and kittens and fur-lined hats and late night car rides.
Earlier this evening, when biking home through Downtown and Park Slope and Prospect Heights and Crown Heights, I admired the light that slowed through Brooklyn, catching on the outsides of homes and the undersides of exterior walls. The air was cold and I felt lucky, aware of the life present around me. Tonight: dark ales, buses through Brooklyn, a persistant beat, the beginnings of blisters, kaboozlin’, walking home.
There is, also, Suzanne’s package.
I tripped on it, when leaving the apartment early this afternoon to meet Roy and Sarah outside in the icy sun wind, before walking to meet Kat and Will for Thai food. Stepping backward, out of our apartment, while locking the door, I accidentally tread upon this lovely cardboard package, and before rushing off to meet my friends, I smiled, and treated this box as a boon– like in the way that Sarah’s dog Boon is a boon, in the way that the sky over Brooklyn with its pearlescent blues and pinks is a boon, like how the plants in the bathroom and the sheets on the bed and the food in the fridge are all boons.
In any case, once I had returned with lunch all over my sleeves and mouth because I can’t eat like a proper human, I opened the box. There were things for a handful of us, but mine were relevant for this blog’s purposes.
It is late, I am full of soup and near to sleep, but I do want to emphasize my thankfulness to EVERY HUMAN I have met, and to every human I have yet to meet. You all have eyes and hair and voices worth knowing. I will be lucky to count you as mine.
I LIKE YOU do you like me?