a 90s day
i am a genius i am a genius i am a genius i am a genius
was what i’ve been writing these hours.
The day i’m about to recall is a stark contrast to the one i exist within today; i lie stomach down, on my mattress-less bed frame; which remains and continues to be older than both me and my mom because it was her parents’ marital bed.
My feet are swinging in the air, every whim or so. And i’ve been subject to exposure to that song from the latest Superman movie. The one that goes: “i’m a punk rocker, yes i am. I’m a punk rocker — yes i am.”
I smile in all forms of glee and whimsy, as i revel in the experience of writing my first Medium article in years; on a laptop that came as a semi-surprise, and was bought just today.
Add on to that, is the fact that I’m on a call with my best friend; both of us eagerly typing away and backspacing ruthless words that come to our now-legal minds.
One, working on an article; the other working on a script for a video essay.
only one of us gets lost in work though.
Mid-May
Only months apart, the day i venture to recall is somewhere in July, or rather mid-May; I just graduated, and two friends turned 18 on the same day.
Summer has officially begun, and i had all this emptiness to deal with.
There were no more daily bulletin board checks, no weekly submissions, no novel deadline, no required YouTube grind..and most of all: no more academic deadlines 🎉
Yay.
But with the undoing of such shackles, came the ticket to never return to days of being an 18-year-old; running up and down the halls and fields, with your high school friends.
I’ll miss it; those nights, running round an open field, playing tag with nothing but the stars, the moon, and AJ’s flashlight to light the way.
I miss them; my friends, who came in clutch for my last year; transforming high school into a home, and no longer a place i was so eager to leave.
Suppose there’ll always be something that’ll make you stay..
i reckon it’s a wednesday.
I reckon it’s Wednesday.
Another morning of rehearsals, a conversation with Raph, and a gasp at the flip phone.
I’ve had it for a month — a blue one, wonderfully reminiscent of Taylor Swift’s Midnights Album.
I got it in May, in hopes of a flip-phone-digital detox summer.
Life with minimal social media has been lonely, yet viscerally surreal. Any moment tinged with sadness can no longer be doused by a quick scroll of IG Reels, nor a habitual yet anxiety-driven check of social messages from all sorts of people.
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Anyone.
As long as it’s from someone.
Anyone.
And all of a sudden, being desperately lonely was the cure.
Mmm.
I’m browsing the racks of Calvin Kleine, shopping for who-knows-where.
I left the store with a few things, upon my mother’s insistence; that i ought to own something of that caliber, now that I was done with high school.
Highschool
High school
highschool.
That sentence ends with a period now.
I am hungry.
So we hurry, and i find myself sticking my nose by the chiller; grabbing a Supermarket Salmon Sashimi.
It’s from Rustan’s Marketplace.
I inevitably wonder whether such a franchise will still exist, by the time i write another article..
I’m bored, so i grab a Reader’s Digest.
They don’t keep these ‘round as much anymore; long gone are the days of racks overflowing with teen magazines, Vogue, J-14, and Total Girl Slambook.
Perhaps i’m the only one who still remembers them
We walk to another building, and cross a street.
We find a Pickup Coffee.
My mom leaves me there, and i peruse the Reader’s Digest; checking my flip phone for a beep every moment or so.
It’s like i’m in a scene from Gilmore Girls.
I feel a little lonely, but it’s alright.
flip phones, makes space for feelings to be felt all the richer.
