A STORY ABOUT COUCHSURFING, LIVING ON THE FRINGES, AND BEING OKAY WITH IT.
I’m going to sum up, if I can, what it’s been like to be homeless. Maybe not destitute and living on the street homeless, but still, no less, without a home. This is what drifting is about, to me, anyway.
It was Sunday. The sun was up and getting in her room and shining on us as we lay hidden beneath the sheets on her bed all morning, talking about things like what the funeral home smelled like.
The best French Press every morning with Haley Hannah Harrison. Love this girl.
So, okay, I haven’t been on in ages. I know this. As always, it’s been weird, but rest assured, I’m still here, still couchsurfing, still working on being okay with it. I’ve just been on a sort of hiatus, and here’s why.
It’s a great day to be a bum. Chicago is like, hot right now. December 3rd and it’s hot. It’s like a day at the beach or something, I swear. It’s lovely, but man, our planet is fucked.
Time for a bike ride, methinks, before this weirdy winter changes its mind.
King Khan & BBQ Show played at the Empty Bottle in Chicago last night! A few of us went and shook real low, and the best part was, I wasn’t even drunk! Such a good night. Definitely needed that.
I’ve really been laying low, playing it cool and keeping it slow all this week ever since last Friday’s blacked-out meltdown at the bar and the walk home and just outside of Frank’s place. I kind of scared myself that night, if you want to know the truth, so I’ve mostly isolated until I get my head sorted. This is a process, I’m learning.
Anyway, I’m not much in the writing mood, so I made this stupid video of some clouds I saw last week. Haley Hannah Harrison and I snuck onto her neighbor’s roof-deck and got drunk.
Rating: 8/10
Pros: Haley Hannah Harrison, plush couch for sleeping, fake tree, coffee, longevity
Cons: drafty
I had to move to a new couch this weekend because Friday got weird. Everything was fine until I ran into Frank and Frank ran into Mr. Hyde.
I had about an hour to pack before I had to be out of my apartment for good. I’d had all week to get my shit together to move out, but naturally I hadn’t packed a goddamn thing all week. So it came down to the last hour before I even drug out my suitcase. It was like, fuck it. I’d lost all motivation and still haven’t gotten it back.
I want to thank everyone who has been following my journal. This is a strange time for me and I’ve been feeling very dissociative, so it’s good to have some fans. I guess I’m reaching a few people, at least. But I’ve left something out in telling you this story. Initially, I didn’t want to spill my guts all at once for fear of turning readers off, but in avoiding doing so, I feel I’ve brushed over a few very important details and missed the point all together. So to fill in the gaps, here’s the context of my couchsurfing journal. I hope it provides a bit of clarity.