• a week full of rocks and thorns has me backing to the depths of my claustrophobic room, back to sending long cathartic emails at 2am to my thesis advisor, to my mother, to my best friend from the 6th grade who is now a wunderkind movie producer.

  some days I'll wake feeling weird and light and hopeful. I'll whistle that talking heads song that my friend once tried to convince me was a love ballad. I'll do laundry, I'll crack my knuckles and work and write and go to the gym.  

  one evening last week I went for a walk in the woods and saw a modern apollo and artemis arguing in the shade of a laurel tree. apollo was sporting an acryllic splattered hoodie, doc martins and dudebro raybans. he had a harmonica hanging from a rope cord around his neck, I kid you not. artemis was beautiful and disheveled and agitated. she was arguing about climate change and picking at her ripped jeans. if wood nymphs were real I swear they'd be flanking her on both sides. apollo pulled a pack of marlboros from his pocket and walked over to me and asked for a lighter, which then provoked artemis to rotate her glare onto me, which provoked me to freeze like a deer. I was scared that she'd call a pack of wolves on me or something.  apollo smirked a subterfuge smirk.

  after I gave him my lighter he said, "it's a blessin to be stressin, my friend. means you're on the right side of the grass."

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