I walked in the door unharmed, after being certain that I was going to be mugged on my way home. I had overheard a lot of violent stories today. As I walked into the kitchen I heard the snap the mouse trap. It's family had been dying by various means all this last week. I know the one that jumped from my dresser to the ground yesterday is the one now under that rectangular block of wood that I am too frightened to go near.
I feel terrible, even though my day was another perfect one. I summed up the courage to speak to a pretty girl on the train to work. I showed her my zine and she was impressed. There was also nothing I could say to persuade her that I was actually the one who illustrated it(I took this as a complement). A man close by saw me speaking to her and was curious of me. In my final moments on the train he told me he wanted to buy one of my paintings and I got his number real quick. He seems like a great dude. Q is his name.
I'll use whatever money he gives me to buy varnish, gold spray paint, and weed.
I felt strong, and comfortable in my own skin at work today. In some ways this feels like I'm acting like a weak child, but in others I feel so empowered and attractive. People even go out of their way now to tell me how attractive I seem to them. I will never go back to wearing a mask.
