city dreams and 16-degree mornings

i woke up to the sound of my alarm clock screaming at me to get up. 16.65 degrees out here. not sure if that’s a blessing or a curse. maybe both? i walked to the café and ordered a coffee that tasted like regret. someone told me that the place has a secret menu item called ‘the ghost shot’ but i haven’t tried it. probably because i’m too busy staring at my phone wondering if the weather will change before i die.

i took a picture of a red and white house with a balcony. it looked like it belonged in a postcard but the balcony was covered in moss. another image shows a street artist painting a mural of a dancing airplane. i don’t know why. maybe it’s a metaphor for life. who knows?

the weather? i just checked and it’s that 16.65 thing again. not too hot, not too cold. kind of like that time i drank three coffees and forgot why i was standing outside. the neighbor across the street plays loud music at 3am. i heard him yelling about ‘life being short’ while wearing sunglasses. it was poetic. or maybe he’s just terrible at life. who’s to say?

i heard that the local market has the best spices but the owner said it’s a myth. another person warned me that the wifi here is spotty but i swear it’s fine. maybe they’re lying. or maybe they’re just bitter. i don’t know. i’m not here to judge.

if you get bored, the city across the river is a short drive. don’t tell anyone, though. it’s not like i want to seem like a tourist. i’m here to blend in. which is ironic because i’m wearing socks with cartoon pigs. they’re from a store that’s 10 minutes away. i’m a hypocrite.

someone told me that the library has a hidden room. i haven’t checked. probably. maybe. i’m too busy overthinking everything. like why is the sky blue? why do people exist? why is my coffee cold?

i checked yelp for nearby spots and found a place called ‘the quiet library’ but it’s closed. maybe. i don’t know. the reviews are all from 2018. maybe it’s a cult. or maybe it’s just a fancy bookstore. either way, i’m not going. i’m too lazy.

i’m a digital nomad. which means i travel but also work from my laptop. which means i’m paying bills while wearing pajamas. which means i’m living the dream. or maybe i’m just procrastinating. it’s hard to tell sometimes.

the humidity is 91%. that’s high. like, i can’t even breathe sometimes. the pressure is 1013. i don’t know what that means. maybe it’s a conspiracy. or maybe it’s just science. either way, i’m here to stay. for now.

i saw a kid selling handmade bracelets near the train station. they were made of recycled plastic. i bought one. it felt weird. like holding a piece of the future. or maybe it was just a strip of plastic. i can’t decide. i’m a mess.

someone warned me that the beach is polluted. i don’t care. i need a photoshoot. i took a picture of the waves and it looked like a watercolor painting. maybe. or maybe it was bad. i can’t tell. i’ll leave it to the internet to decide.

i’m writing this on a laptop that’s two years old. it’s slow. it’s loud. it’s my friend. i named it ‘barry’ because it reminds me of a 90s movie. maybe. or maybe i’m just tired. either way, it’s here. and it’s judging me.

i heard that the local band plays every weekend. i didn’t go. i’m too scared of music. or maybe i’m just cheap. i don’t know. i’m a mess. a beautiful, confused mess.

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