The Weather Report – January 26, 2015
Waitakere, Auckland, New Zealand
High: 27 °C
Low: 18 °C
Sunrise: 6:31 a.m.
Sunset: 8:37 p.m.
Humidity: 61%
Dewpoint: 33°
Moon Phase: Waxing Gibbous
You should wear: More patterns.
You’re going to feel: You know the feeling you get when you’re sitting on the toilet, shitting on the toilet, in a public bathroom, someone turns the doorknob from the other side, trying to get in. It’s locked, and even though you know it’s locked the blood still rushes to your face and through every tiny hook and turn in your ear, and you sit in a moment of panic as you try to cover yourself and become small. You will feel that constantly throughout the day.
Overcast till late afternoon with passing showers near midnight. Winds NNW at 31 kmph.
☁
We arrived in the same state one day apart, both wearing the same boots. I traveled 191.5 miles and you traveled 5,576 kilometers. Two years later I am writing about our feet, matched and socked and booted, attached to our drugged bodies and linked hands. Two years later we are on opposite ends of this world.
Do you think fear can keep us alive? Do you think hunger can keep us from being afraid? Do you think exhaustion can keep us from starving? Do you think falling asleep is a trick, and do you think death will fall for it?
I open your snapchat to a glitchy video of at least one dog on your bed where, I assume, based on the point of view of the video, you are also currently situated. I imagine your body to be made of golfball-sized squares, like the ones scaled down on my phone screen. The lighting in your room is affected by the brown curtains hanging halfway down from their rod, covering the panes almost entirely. I imagine you to be made of mostly purples and reds. Light is a radiant energy, by definition. You are a radiant energy, by the rules of me.
It’s been said that you should never cover an oak floor with carpet. Try sand. Try ice cubes. Try your sister’s vomit. Try your vomit. Try pine needles. Try pine. This will do. Fuck the oak. Line the pine.
Light is responsible for the sense of sight. I say that you are too.
Sarah Jean Alexander wrote a book called Wildlives. She lives in Brooklyn, NY.
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