i remember being obsessed with seeing the graphic design in everything.
i remember being better at identifying typefaces.
i remember living, breathing, dreaming, and thinking creativity all the time.
i remember reading great books on subway rides home while interning in NYC.
i remember doubting what i believed in but wanting hang on.
i remember hating myself sometimes.

i remember less as each day passes. the curse of memory.

i remember spring break senior year...going to Block Island with the kids in painting. the group of kids that i wanted to be apart of but found difficult to penetrate, difficult to build. i was an outsider.
we grilled burgers, fish and vegetables as the sunset and the weather grew colder. we drank every moment. we walked to a shore below some bluffs and lounged in the after-morning drizzle and sunshine growing stronger from the dissipating clouds. we laid in the sand and napped, we ran with the rhythm of the waves with our pale feet submerged in the freezing water. we tripped on shrooms and saw nature around us enhanced. we climbed the bluffs that were made up of dried and dead brush and branches. i got lost in some thick of it, just where it got steep, and heard an animal breathing rapidly and furiously at me for disturbing its home - i started to freak out because i didn't know what kind of animal and where it was or how to get out of that spot without sinking below it or falling off.
i remember sleeping with another girl when i shouldn't have and how that morning felt so grand. i was young and wayward...
i remember guilt and apologies.
i remember my self consciousness.
i remember sitting along the river with LA talking it out, smoking camel turkish silvers.
i remember camels.

i remember citizen's bank, the green glow on red bricks.

i remember the smell of store 24.

i remember the cool of night after a hot sticky day of moving boxes into james' basement.

i remember sun and moon kimchi stew.

i remember CAV and thinking it was a good date place.

i remember when they first opened jimmy johns and i ate those sandwiches four days in a row until i realized all the flavor was coming from the mayo.

i remember el forno's meat trio with stone ground mustard and being blown away.

i remember the satisfaction of gulping newcastle after swallowing down those colonial nachos.

i remember cafe choklad's amazing breakfast sandwiches: thick black forest ham, over easy egg, swiss, on thick toasted slices of brioche.