these days I don’t go out much. I like going to the local toy store because all the sounds are little kid sounds, not grown up worries or problems, you know, and it reminds me of being little.

I’ve pretty much been living in a bubble. staying off socials, staying off the blogs, strict time limits. doctor’s orders. I’m keeping away from old feeds and the mindless scroll. especially the old pics and vids on the gram that bring up things I can’t handle yet.

I’m not working right now. my job at the donut shop is waiting for me because they understand. spending a lot of time just here at home in the apartment. I stare out the window for hours it seems, watching buses run too late for the shifts. time doesn’t stop. I never realized before how the windows wail every time it storms.

I water and talk to the plants. I read a lot. I even learned to cook a few new things, like pescado a la coqueta (Spanish baked fish with garlic and paprika). mom takes me to the clinic and the psychiatrist’s. sometimes that’s scary, like I can feel flames racing toward me. other times I can’t wait to go, just for the chance to see someone new on the bus or in the street. the other day I saw a guy who looked just like Jesus. he smiled at me and I felt like a desert I wished he’d wander into.

I take short walks with abuela to the bodega. we attend mass. sometimes we go to the park and hold hands while she tells me stories about abuelo and my dad, who I never met. how I inherited his eyes and mom’s smile.

I’ve also been listening to old records that she and my mom collected, discovering cool sounds I didn’t know before. I think they’re trying to tell me something, so I’m making a few new songs. I hope to post something at some point.

the light behind each window is pale like a prayer.