A 3rd floor apartment in a small city, on the corner of the street, the edge of adulthood, and the center of the universe

The robotic tone of “Caution, Bus is turning” and aggressive sunshine through translucent blinds is my wake up call every morning and I wouldn’t have it any other way. My apartment is filled to the brim with art, overflowing even. It’s on the walls and on the floor, some displayed in an organized fashion and most of it in piles and heaps. The abundance of artwork trashing our borrowed apartment could almost be considered a site of art in itself , which we essentially signed up for when we decided to sublet from a bunch of RISD students on Wickenden St.. We barely decided it though, if you knew the story of how it happened. I don’t have time to tell the entire story in detail, but the gist is that we looked at a few places because we, my slightly paler and much curlier haired twin and I, impulsively decided that we couldn’t leave the ocean state for our middle of nowhere family homes and even more so that we needed to do something spontaneous or impulsive in general or else our entire lives might pass us by and right this second is as good a time as any to take a risk and trust your gut and make some mildly irresponsible, but immensely heartfelt decisions. So we looked at a few places and had one more to see and decided that we would only choose this last option if it was perfect and had roof top access. Ask and you shall receive. Call it manifestation or law of attraction in action or whatever you choose. The final apartment of the night, not only had ladders propped up against skylights leading to the roof, it had a waffle maker, a room completely empty besides art and a keyboard (the room they use only to “make things” in), and a floor bed tucked away in a cozy cave like space that would soon be mine.

So we came here and we had/have no idea what we were/are doing and it is beautiful. We have no ties and minimal responsibilities and just enough money to get by and buy an over priced coffee now and again. The coffee is worth it too. We live next door to a coffee shop with the strongest coffee and the most nostalgic music and last time I sat there, the people next to me were writing a film and I was editing my book and I love it here. I accidently acquired two part time jobs that I’m not sure I want , but they serve as nice paid hobbies in between searching for jobs that I actually want and for the meaning of life and what to do with it-plus occasional trips to the piano bar. We are borrowing a cat for the month of June and getting paid for it. She is overweight and “anger-vomits” if you don’t feed her on time (honestly, so relatable) and her name is Numpy. We aren’t allowed to park on the streets overnight here, but have only got 1 ticket each so far and we are going to be ok. Down the street there’s a vegan ice cream shop, at least 4 antique stores, and a park on the water where I am sitting and writing this right now.

I got lunch and caught up with my friend this afternoon over noodles. My fortune cookie told me to take the day off and then my second job emailed saying they weren’t opening today. I needed the money, but there is more to life than that I think; like sitting in the sun with a sea breeze and your thoughts. If you told me last year, or the year before, that this would be my life for a whole summer, I would say you had to be joking. It’s ridiculously simple, if you think about it. I’m just living day by day the best life I can in my current circumstances, constantly trying to improve them for the future, but finding infinite beauty where I am right now. Right now in the tiny spec of the infinite universe I am granted.

Right here, right now, is sweet summer sun and having to vacuum sand off my bedroom floor at least twice a week. It’s sporadic rain showers leaving behind double rainbows and living blocks away from strangers from your past and but not giving them a thought or a text back because they are not the present. Right now is making $1 boxes of pasta  for dinner most nights, but sitting by the window with a view of the street below, ideal for people watching, and once a week (but I can’t keep track of which day it is, so it’s always a surprise) fireworks go off in the distance. Right now is being an adult, but not really, not all the way. Will any of us ever be adults all the way? Should we even pretend to be? We’re like the adult cat who we temporarily adopted. “Someone should probably take care of us, but we can sort of make it on our own”.  We pay our bills and pay attention to the moment at hand and write cover letters and pay covers at bars. We’re full of green drinks full of kale and nutrients and pink drinks full of vodka and god only knows what else. It’s balance and freedom and it’s where we are supposed to be.

The other day I came home and there was a full band outside my door. Right outside. People were sitting watching them from my front steps. It smells like whatever food you’re craving if you walk outside and turn any corner right around dinner time, and at sunset the sky turns an overwhelming purple-pink almost every night. Yeah that happens everywhere, but it feels different when your windows are circular shaped like the ones on a boat and your room smells like mangos and your life could go in any new winding direction as soon as tomorrow. I’m not sure if coming here was the best decision financially, or career wise, or responsibility wise, but it was the best decision for the type of life I want to live and person I want to be and it was necessary. Essential for the well-being of my soul. Among the other day to day adult things like taxes and bills and laundry, I am most responsible for my own happiness and for maintaing the tiny corner of universe that belongs only to me. My corner of the universe is made of coffee shops that people write movies in, front steps that bands play on, bars that sound like dueling pianos and unsurpassable laughter, and streets that smells like vegan cupcakes and pizza and love. My corner of the universe on the corner of two streets and the center of summer and the edge of the rest of my life. It’s full of big words and big ideas and no small talk is allowed. It’s filled with smiling strangers and skylights you can climb out of if you’re brave enough. So all of us in this little apartment/tiny corner of the universe, borrowed cat included, might not be ready to be responsible serious adults, but we might be as ready as we will ever be, and more importantly we are ready for life, as ready as we will ever be.

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