June Dispatch

Summer is here, basically. I want to wear a sunhat and listen to Lana Del Rey while sitting in a field of freshly mown grass.

I am at the party screaming “Thank God Mercury retrograde is over” with my whole chest. Usually this would be ironic. This time it is still ironic, but I also mean it.

If this is the best party of the summer, how come all we’re doing is talking about how it’s the best party of the summer while it’s happening?

I want to resurrect James Joyce and ask him to rewrite “Dubliners,” only this time all of the stories would be about the unexpected and ungodly revival of Midtown, of all places, now that Bushwick is over. We deserve a version of “The Dead” set in Russian Samovar. Or maybe we don’t deserve it. Either way it’s what I want.

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An object in motion stays in motion with the same speed and in the same direction unless acted upon by an unbalanced force. Well, what if I’m the object and the force? What then?

The key to life is striking the perfect balance between over and under sharing online.

In her text “Glitch Feminism,” artist Legacy Russell instructs readers that we should say “AFK (away from keyboard)” instead of “IRL (in real life).” After all, who gets to decide which mode of existence is more real?

I don’t know for sure, but I’ll take the version where you’re stroking my hair in the morning any day.

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