I was having a conversation with my bestie Chris the other day and we decided that my basic response to just about everything will be, “Sing it, child,” for an undisclosed amount of time.
No one sings it like Amy. While I tend to prefer lyric-less tunes when I’m writing, too many words can be distracting, I obsess over songs I love. Such as:
Sing it, child.
I think this song beautifully encapsulates why I will be single forever. I’ve never met a dude stronger than me. This is based on the loose definition of “strength” as the ability to handle one’s own shit. I’ve seen too many creatures unfold before me. I think this is quite evident in, Poetry: Volume Two, for example.
My therapist had this theory “relationships” are healthy for me. Ignoring that advice is the best advice I’ve given myself in a minute. Now that I have no phone, I won’t be going to therapy anymore anyways.
It’s going to be 15C/59F today in New York City. After the bitter cold of the past few weeks, we’re basically wearing singlets.