here isn't where i want to be;
this time last week i was standing in madison square gardens waiting for the arctic monkeys to play the concert of my fucking life. i was laden down with tour merch, stomach full of chinese food, and feet sore from the met. and now i'm here and it's so so weird how you can go from one extreme to another - from dancing shoes to lonely saturday nights.
it was a whirlwind that was never supposed to amount to anything. the tickets i bought on a whim, the idea came out of nowhere; it wasn't supposed to work. until it did. we built it up, made it into something. i flew to new york city on thursday night with my best friend and flew out sunday morning.
it was the best weekend of my life.
i went to the strand (picked up the coreal sea and tao te ching) and washington square park and hotel chelsea. i took selfies in grand central station and wore purple converse while staring at a picasso. i heard alex fucking turner sing 'all my loving' live, and actually nearly died.
phenomenal. absolutely unreal