sometimes i feel like i don’t belong at these parties with rooftop decks and kitchen islands. it is not the pottery barn furnishes that separate us, but the privilege. i had become quite comfortable with my identity as an in-debt twenty-something. quite comfortable scoffing at the connections people make between virtues/merit and wealth.
went to bed and the sun was coming up. the rain was coming down. the 5am hour is such a mixed feeling.