That time in which a bunch of adult people sit in a dark and windowless room for 10 hours, and eat snacks. Sometimes, we stand in clumps and stare in the same direction. Other times, we write each other important notes about what is going on:
I don’t know what to say about my out-of-town housing except that I’ve spent several nights making videos for The Bird in which I walk through my apartment (apartment? palace? architectural landscape?) room by room so she can see all of them, and by the time I get to the balcony from the front door, the video is too massive to send. I’ve had to walk a lot faster. The place comes with a river, and a boat. They’re also mine, clearly. You can come over, Taylor Swift. I know you’re feeling a little bit cramped in all of your sad minor houses. You can have the spare bedroom.