I’m thinking about how after this we’ll be stuck in a time capsule for a while. The same music and movies and shows playing on repeat for months.
I’m thinking about how it feels like a gift that the new Strokes album came out on Friday and is actually good.
Taking off for a run headed west on 3rd and crossing Avenue A when the bass line in “The Adults Are Talking” kicks in feels indescribably good and like a gong ringing outside both ears. it’s normal it’s normal it’s normal.
The sky looks bluer but probably just because I don’t see it as much.
Today Natalie got a postcard in the mail from her friend Rachel. It made Natalie cry and she said “this sucks” in the kitchen in a way I could tell she meant it. I was thinking of sending postcards and letters to friends but now I’m not sure. After my run I looked at postcards in the stationary store across Avenue A. I was going to buy some but then saw the guy was selling N95 masks and that felt like a good enough excuse to walk out and think about it some more. I just got paid and got my government stimulus check at the same time and I know it’s just money burning a hole in my pocket, nowhere to spend it since we can’t go anywhere.
Little things can feel good: Drinking a sip of cold wine while I’m in the shower, letting myself dance around in the tub to that Strokes album again.
I passed by Shane’s building on my run, headed back east along Broome. With the bars below his apartment closed I can’t recognize which building his is anymore. I never looked up at it before, only ever looked for Home Sweet Home on the street level, for people crowded around on the sidewalk outside, smoking cigarettes and wearing strips of clothes.
I’m thinking about how this Strokes album is always going to remind me of the time I was always in my apartment and could go running down the middle of busy streets in the West Village. Crossing the full width of lower Manhattan in the bike lanes and roads.