from riga to Vilnius. then from vilnius to berlin. the trees are white and skinny. i’m doin okay.

i liked riga. it’s a small city, but not oly small. not even an hour ago, i was at the train station (i should have been at the bus station) looking for help and sure enough, i saw a sweet angelic face, and it smiled at me. i do not remember his name. i only know that i met him at riga’s only gay bar (the golden) and i was being gay with his boyfriend, artur. artur told me sweetface was sad. i hope artur treats him well.
he helped me and probably missed the bus and i gave him a little box of matches from the art nouveau district that ii was unable to send to my bestie because latvian postwomen are odd and stubborn.
i love a sweet boy. i do not love loud british men.

riga is where my blood is from, it felt familiar to me. it was fantastic to be alone. here i was, in a place untainted by memories and feelings, where i could be free. i operated on no time. i haven’t slept in a long time, let me tell you. but now i’m gone and i’ve gathered a few feelings (like eating shit from the cobblestones) and what it was like to go to the depeche mode and request “blasphemous rumors” and sing along to it alone in the back.

but the loose ends, they get me. i’m trying to get my ducks in a row, i hope jasmine will ask the cards for me.

i got a tattoo from vlad, it says “alone” in hangul. 혼자 혼자 혼자 혼자 혼자

i’ve taken on the persona of the “weird american girl”.