It’s switching between hard gangsta rap and fruity korean pop music at work all day.
It’s wishing I knew how to lose weight faster and then being angry I’m not faster at running.
It’s outlining my improvement by using statistics instead and telling myself to quit comparing to everyone as a measure of success. It’s trying harder anyway.

It’s eating a quarter pound of bacon and not feeling a shred of guilt.

And watching Star Trek with my head on a warm, t-shirt wrapped chest.

It’s missing my friends that are transient in my life, because of theirs.

It’s embracing the hourglass.
It’s being a social moth.  It’s the pull of  dark places with dim lights and going out only at night.

Its watching a tired cat shake off the night before on your sweatshirt and NatGeo collection.

It’s playing the entire album UNDER THE IRON SEA by Kean and finding myself awash in an intense nostalgia I can’t shake off.
It’s living every moment of singlehood with more purpose knowing it’s about to end. It’s feeling each day as a single grain in the ridges of my fingers.

It’s mentally smashing the hourglass against a glass wall.
It’s staring at my face in the vibrating facade of disguised plastic.

It’s life. One hour, one minute, one second and one solid piercing moment at a time.

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