In no particular order:

A blameless being left the door unlocked one night. Then the next morning, I awoke to Asian chatter. My aunts had broken into the apartment. To one sister, it was confusing and then hilarious, to the other, it was infuriating and then tolerable. There was a day when I saw a woman's flip flops embellished with grapes. I thought, "That's an awesome idea." Someday I will configure my own flip flops to function in that way. I walked out of the train one day and an elderly religious woman was yelling and scolding everyone for not fearing God and taking His pamphlets. It's an everyday thing, but I was expecting to at least walk down the stairs first. I signed up for a wood lathe class. It was great. It was fun. I had tacos and horchata in Sunset Park that day after class, and I tried beef tongue for the first time. It was deliciously more tender than other cuts of beef, but I could only imagine in the back of my mind a cow with its tongue hanging out. A lot of the time I've been imagining the live animal in the back of my mind while eating it's dead meat. It's been throwing me off my meat game lately. Well we walked through the actual Sunset Park after the tacos, apparently the highest point in Brooklyn and a beautiful place to watch the sunset. The sun had already set at the time, but we walked through and then passed a cemetery. Cemeteries in New York are never scary. They're beautiful to walk through in the daytime and they transform into glowing meadows of magic at night, well, only when it's humid outside and the fireflies come out. I've come across a myriad of bug species here that I don't encounter in Arizona. First of all, roaches, roaches, and roaches. Then I think I rolled over a centipede with the computer chair. I turned around and the bugger was twitching. Slugs don't bother me as much. Their slime trails are real. Really fascinating. Metaphor or not, for all these creepy crawly demons in the world, there's always the fireflies to look forward to. Outside of that cemetery, we found an excerpt from  a mystery person's journal. In summary it went like this: "I can't have a close relationship with my Mom. One time my aunt was comparing me to my cousin and saying mean things about me. She didn't bother to defend me. One time, my Mom started dating this guy who smoked. I didn't like it and I asked him to stop smoking in the house and he told me to wear a breathing mask. She didn't even bother defending me. I can't fully trust her emotionally or economically. My parents have been divorced for 26 years." *turned over the page of this sad, sad note* "MUSIQA = MUSIC."