I had 2 drinks the other night. It was after a long-enough time, and the next ones probably aren’t gonna happen anytime soon.

Which makes the whole experience so bitter, cause even though I thought I’d be okay with having a third person join us two (Olivia and I), turns out that that totally killed my vibe.

So, maybe, I like being a certain kind of tipsy/drunk. With people I feel comfortable with. And perhaps, stranger men, even though nice and sweet, is very far off from that vibe. Stranger women themselves aren’t very comfy for me, so do strange men stand a chance? *

So we just took a taxi after all of this, and went to the hotel. My friend dropped me to the hotel, then I booked her an Uber to her place (literally 3 minutes away from the hotel). Anyway, from the drinks place, we booked an Uber together. The AC was “broken” as it often is in Ubers. But we rolled down the windows, and I slacked into my backseat and watched the trees and the stars and the houses and the cars go past. It’s been a long time I slacked like that (pun intended).

And I like that version of me. Someone who is…really, for real… existing. Just existing. Just here. And everything is quiet. And the pain is slightly numb. It doesn’t feel like needles, just a soft butter knife cutting through the gentleness of my soul and of my angry and bitter and sad narratives.

* I guess my relationship with men isn’t great right now. And I am not saying I want to fix it, as such.

You know what will fix it?

When good men hold the bad men accountable so anyone this world is not built for don’t have to do that work for everyone. The good men have to step in, stand up, and fight. Until that happens, I am wary of all men. All men.

I don’t necessarily like the awkward existence that my body is in this weird planet and weird life and weird…space. I want to be comfy in this world. And perhaps I will never be. A girl can dream, and hope, and talk, and write. Maybe one day. Maybe one day.

🎧 Agnel Obel — It’s Happening Again