There’s a cow in my closet.

Yeah — I’m in New Jersey.

Photo by Samuel Zeller on Unsplash

I have no idea what this means except that my (new) closet while visiting Northern Jersey is brimming with clothes and things that aren’t mine and I wonder if that matters? If the things matter? If the chaos we invite into our lives that nurses us to sleep at night as much as it keeps us awake, perpetually ‘on’ in a state of FOMO, does any of it matter?

yo — clap if you like this essay. It’s good vibes + makes me smile!

p.s. I’d love to meet, you. Highlight or comment to say waddup.