Sunset: 5:52pm. A waning crescent moon on Halloween with a high of 64 degrees. I’m back in New York City, where everything is smaller and harder, and the city is constantly inserting itself into my thoughts like another person in the room. New York is still glittering and grand; the problem is me. I’ve had enough input. Enough inspiration.

My body moves down First Avenue, but my brains are still in the desert, driving around the quiet margins of Vegas through roomy streets with tan bungalows and garbled strip malls with every service from every nation. C. and I have decided to move to Nevada next spring—partially for the lower cost of living, mostly for the aesthetic of night driving down desert parkways with neon spraying across the windshield and the Chromatics on the radio.

This is the plan, and I’ve made a note to reread this entry six months from now. Because life has a funny way. If you want to hear God laugh, etc. But I hope I’ll be reading this from the desert.

Chromatics – Lady Night Drive

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