NYC Diary #1
8:13 a.m. Ugh I’m awake. But I was supposed to get up at 7 to write and slept through my alarm. I always love writing in the morning before anyone texts. Had a weird Sunday. Went to bed at like 3 so I slept basically not at all. Annoying.
9:00 a.m. I workout with J and this always makes me feel good. Because we don’t talk about anything dramatic or real or obsessive or that has to do with writing. We just talk about the 90s when we both grew up and make references to music videos. This is one of my favorite hours of the week.
10:30 a.m. Get ready for work stuff.
1:20 p.m. Work.
4:30 p.m. Phone call for McSweeney’s thing I’m doing. Goes well. J #2 (lol) is super sweet and smart and really cares about poetry. Sexy voice too.
7:00 p.m. So I write this weird thing on the Q train that’s maybe a poem which is annoying because I’m working on prose and I just really want to stop writing poems but, anyway—I’m going to drinks even though I told myself Mon-Wed no drinking!! This guy is kind of hot. My first Raya date. Is he actually hot though? I’m only saying that from the photos. We’ve been texting and he thinks I’m super mysterious or something but really I’m kind of bored by his questions. But would hit it. So I go. Duh.
7:48 p.m. I’m like 18 minutes late lol. Oops. I tell him poets are bad with time. Even though time is all I think about. Whatever! He loves it. He is SO good looking I kind of hate it because he’s hotter than me. But it makes me stay too. He works in banking. Okay! I knew that but like. Yes. I have student loans baby. I basically put myself through everything so. A boy’s gotta do what a boy’s gotta do.
9:30 p.m. We change bars. We’re in the West Village. That usually means a guy wants to bang. Just like offering to take you to another bar. But it’s Monday. Omg. I said I wouldn’t drink.
10:00 p.m. Asking me so many questions about being a poet. It’s kind of dull. Even when I’m drunk. Like okay, I know banking is boring but. Can we talk about Sofia Coppola. Or like who hurt you in childhood. Or like, can you buy me this John Elliot sweater I want.
11:20 p.m. I’m home! We didn’t bang. I’m almost offended? But it felt like he wanted to go on another date. Maybe this is what Raya dudes do! A second date as a gay person? Isn’t that marriage??
2:10 a.m. I can’t sleep. OMG. I can’t stop thinking about this guy in 7th grade (let’s call him Chris) and this weird thing he said to me once. I can’t say it here. But why am I thinking about this? I look at the banker’s photos again and decide he’s not that hot. I’ve never done anything just for money so (and needed to many times!) I don’t know! Maybe I’m just annoyed we didn’t fuck! What happened. Did my hair get weird?
6:25 a.m. Okay first thing I think of is, I love this feature. I’m writing it like day to day, in my phone, as stuff happens. But I’m not sure I’ll post it on social. Maybe just send it to people who subscribe to the stack?? Maybe just a link on story too? OMG. Why am I obsessive about this.
7:20 a.m. I work on prose stuff. I’m actually so excited about it. It’s taken like since 2017 to get to this exciting moment. I mean, just this particular moment where I feel good about what’s happening. I wish I had more time to do it! But gotta pay bills and do other stuff. Sucks.
8:40 a.m. Okay I stop writing because I know exactly what I will do next and even though I can keep going, it’s so exciting when you feel this way. It makes sitting down next time easier. Because you just know. You know the next sentence kind of.
10:30 a.m. I’ve wasted two hours just scrolling through shit on social and want to kill myself.
11:40 a.m. I run the reservoir in Central Park. I love how fall smells. It makes me want to live. Even though everything is dying. Cute!
1:30 p.m. Get ready for work stuff.
4:09 p.m. Banker guy texts me. OMG lol. Another boring observation/question. He’s trying. He’s actually really nice. And like normal. But I just don’t like his brain. Can he be like…I don’t know. Can he be a more emotional thinker? Why am I like this!!
5:25 p.m. I’m early. Work.
9:20 p.m. I meet my friend A at The Marlton. I’ve already made a new best friend in the 10 minutes I’ve been waiting for him. He’s late but he’s coming from Sunset Park. He’s so sweet. New best friend is a straight girl. I don’t want to say too much about her because what if I do post this on social?? OMG. Nothing bad obviously! She’s so sweet. Anyway she follows me on Insta in like the first 15 minutes. Great. I’m an insane poet is what I want to tell her. But I don’t. I just smile.
10:00 p.m. A is a fiction writer. We were in a fight. I’m so glad it’s over. I really missed him. I’m confused why I lie to him and tell him I haven’t gone on any Raya dates. Maybe I don’t want to talk about the banker because I already know it won’t work out? I hate when I have that feeling. It’s sad. And also like, it wasn’t a terrible night. But I already know his brain is not working the way I want it to. Lol. I try not to let men interested in me follow me on social like this straight girl just did. She’s okay though! She’s fun. But men just mine information from my stories and stuff. It’s so annoying. And sometimes I have “too much” of a personality and they get scared. I literally am quoting what some guy said to me. Well, he said I’m “too much.” Haha. I wanted to be like, sweetie, you’re just not enough.
11:20 p.m. A and I are drunk but we go to the bar next door. I don’t even know its name?? It’s just the bar next door to The Marlton to me. I used to have a crush on him but then it ended and then it started and then it ended again. He’s straight. Anyway. I love A because he is an emotional thinker. And very perceptive about so much. And reads me very well. He’s a Leo. Duh. All my friends are Aries and Leo and Sagittarius. Kinda. And Taurus. And Libra. I actually haven’t gone through a Sagittarius cycle in a while because, well, if you know Sags, you are friends with them cyclically. I have a new Sagittarius friend though! She’s amazing. Okay, there are some people I won’t actually name in this diary. Some things I won’t include. Because I do hang with a lot of people…lol. And some stuff should be private.
12:30 a.m. I take a car home. A invites me to his party on Friday night. It’s not a Halloween party. He just moved in to his apartment and it’s that kind of party. I don’t know what that kind of party is but I’ll go because I’m so glad A and I are friends again. Sometimes when I fight with my friends it gets so intense and feels like we are married. It’s kind of hot. But really taxing.
1:40 a.m. Passing out?? Can’t sleep again. Ugh.
6:38 a.m. Working out with J. Always like 5-8 minutes late because this time is criminal. But I chose it. I had this really stupid idea that since Wednesday is my longest day I should begin it early and get energy from working out. I literally want to kill myself. It’s dark for most of our workout. J is training for the NYC marathon. He tells me what he ate during the week. He’s so healthy. He asks me if I’ve been keeping up with not drinking. I lie and say yes! Lol. I’m so annoyed with myself. But I want to impress him. And plus he’s so disciplined I feel so shitty I’m…a poet. I decide I’m not gonna drink today.
9:30 a.m. Work.
7:30 p.m. This day literally kills me but I’m done. It’s over. Yay. I get to think about stuff I’m writing.
8:00 p.m. I’m at The Mark getting a drink at the bar by myself. Oops. Lol. I worked so hard today though!! I post “Soul Fucking” on the stack. This poem really hurts my feelings. I was like, do I even publish it. It’s so painful to me. But because it really hurts my feelings, I decide, yes. Yes, because it’s true. It’s not the way I wanted that relationship, friendship, whatever it was, to end. I am so sad about this. I can’t stop thinking about it. Sometimes it literally hurts my entire body and I start to feel sick. I feel very grateful I wrote this poem though. No idea how it happened. Grateful because it gave me some peace. To just say how I felt. Everyone’s like, oh Alex, you are so mysterious. But not really. I’m right there. I’ve always been in the poems. You just have to know where to look.
10:00 p.m. Still by myself. Drinking very slowly. Honestly not even drunk. Just thinking. I love thinking and drinking alone in public. I can’t believe I said “fucking” so many times in a poem. Wtf lmao.
11:40 p.m. I’m in bed!! So early. Wow. I’m proud. I look at Twitter and people really like this poem. Love fucks people up. That’s why. I’m glad though. I mean glad they like it. Not that it fucks them up lol. I’m glad they like it because this is such a true poem for me. I start thinking about it again and feel sick. Good decision to share it. You should feel sick.
7:40 a.m. The vibes today are so weird.
10:30 a.m. Writing.
12:45 p.m. Haircut with Moses. 74 & Lex. Moses has been cutting my hair since 2017. 2017 is a year I became a new person. I think 2023 is the year Alex Dimitrov becomes another new person. Moses tells me Tom Hanks is getting his haircut at 2:00 p.m. I would not believe him but Tom Hanks literally got his haircut before me in December once. Last year, I think. I was like, “I loved you in A League of Their Own.” There’s no crying in baseball!!! Lol. He was so nice. I love nice people. Moses is so good at his job. He cares so much. He’s a Virgo. I love people who care so much.
3:12 p.m. Giving exact time cause banker texts again. All the other times are like approximate and stuff. Maybe just some minutes off or sometimes totally on but you get it. Anyway. Banker says he found my book. I want to say which one but that sounds conceited. And I’m not conceded. I actually underplay a lot of stuff with men and sometimes I wonder why. I just want to make people comfortable, I guess! I’m actually super sweet.
3:30 p.m. I want to tell the banker not to read my stuff but don’t. I don’t know why I feel this way! I just hope he didn’t read “Soul Fucking” omg. He didn’t. But imagine if he had? That poem is mortifying to me. Why did I share it. I’m second guessing. I decide to go for a run.
5:00 p.m. Decide to see Tar again after my run. Cate Blanchett is amazing. Why am I seeing a movie twice? It’s that good.
5:40 p.m. I cross the park, east to west, and see it somewhere on west 68th Street. Okay! I never really take myself to the movies. This is new. Mothers of America let your kids go to the movies! Does anyone get the reference? Lol.
9:20 p.m. Walking home. Tar is long. The park feels a little weird. People are walking their dogs though. Off leashes. It’s cute. I just don’t love crossing at night. I’m not scared or anything. I don’t know. You just see less. This other guy on Raya is being so mean and defensive. He literally interprets my schedule and tells me I can “stay out later tonight” if I’m “not doing anything tomorrow.” First of all. It’s a writing day for me, you prick. Those are the most important days. Why does everyone think being a writer is just staring out a window. He actually unmatches me after I say “I think it’s rude to interpret my schedule for me. Have a good night.” Lol. I mean, okay. But it doesn’t make me feel great. Just sad. I hate small, mean, meaningless exchanges. This ruins my night. I am very sensitive.
11:20 p.m. I write a weird thing. Maybe the beginning of a poem. So annoying. I need to just be working on prose!! But it sort of held my brain hostage. And then I started writing it down and didn’t stop. And it’s kind of okay. It doesn’t sound like me. But it came from my brain. Lol. Writing is so crazy.
9:30 a.m. I slept in. Honestly though, I was awake at 7ish and didn’t get up. I’ve just been in bed thinking. I am sad about so much. My friend A said I am grieving. I thought it sounded corny and weak and I hated that he said it. But you know what, it’s true. He truly is an emotional thinker. That’s the kind of thing the banker probably would never say to me. I stopped texting with him anyway. Or at least in my mind. I don’t think he knows that. He’s still sort of trying. The more he talks, the less interested I am. Life is a paradox.
3:00 p.m. I said I would write but didn’t. I’ve just been reading. I can’t decide if I want to share what I’m reading on here. I’ll just say that I was reading some Ashbery poems. Which is true. But I’m also reading other stuff I just want to keep to myself for now. Because it has to do with one of my projects and I don’t want to jinx it. Ashbery is always such a pleasure. I’m just like, what the fuck is happening. But also: why do I feel so emotional about it! Because I do. He was a Leo. It makes so much sense. So much personal pressure behind what seem to be abstract lines. And they are. But. No. He was an emotional thinker. Leos are emotional thinkers. It’s beautiful. Leos forever.
9:40 p.m. I take a car to A’s party. It’s fun. K is there and we talk about tennis because we both religiously follow it. He always asks me to play but he’s so good, I’m scared. Just like. I’m very competitive. And I know it shouldn’t matter if I lose but I would lose. He said we could just rally. I’m thinking about it. My favorite player Denis Shapovalov is actually having a great indoor season. We talk about that a bit. Denis is an Aries and such a mess. Sometimes he is amazing and sometimes he loses very badly. He is so talented though. He has the most beautiful game. It’s why I fell in love with him. His game is so aesthetically stunning. He has this jumping one-handed backhand, that when it lands, and when he jumps super high to hit it…it just takes my breath away. He’s also blond and gorgeous.
11:30 p.m. I’m having way too much fun with a new friend at this party. Or newish. I met him at another party for a literary thing. Sagittarius. Okay. So I’m meeting more Sags. I’m so glad. They bring such a life force with them wherever they go. We do some wild stuff. Haha, I can’t say what! He’s fun!! I’m having such a nice night after what felt like a sad week.
1:20 a.m. I get in a car and pay a million dollars because I’m in Sunset Park. But I would do it again because A really helped me hold it together this summer. And I helped him hold it together. We both went through really weird romantic/friendship stuff. Him with a girl and me with a guy. Okay obviously lol. I don’t know why I wrote that. Honestly, straight men are some of my best friends. This is new. Or like the last 5 years new. I know we’re all supposed to shit on straight guys now but I’m not going to. I love you guys!! Sorry everyone hates you lol.
9:40 a.m. I sleep in. Wake up sad. Even though the party was so beautiful. Sometimes this happens to me after a party. I feel one of two ways. Either super happy and alive. Or very sad. But it has nothing to do with the party. I’m just so sad about the “Soul Fucking” thing. Lol. If people are like, I don’t get it. Here, I’m talking about a poem, but I’m also talking about the experience behind the poem. Which was long. Like years.
11:00 a.m. I go shopping uptown. Why is everyone out? I’m so annoyed. I just want to shop in peace!!
3:00 p.m. Wow I shopped for a really long time. I needed that. Sometimes I’m like, am I bisexual? Women are so beautiful.
4:00 p.m. Writing.
6:00 p.m. Oh people are out for Halloween. Like getting stuff at stores. That’s why. Okay. I’m still annoyed. I randomly decide I want to get my nails painted black. Because I’m not really doing anything for Halloween and this makes me feel bitchy. So I go to this nail place next to Juice Press. Where I get a “Blue Magic, large,” all the time. I’m one of the last people to come in before closing. I would paint my own nails but I feel so sad today. I just want something perfect. And I would fuck them up. Sometimes when you’re sad you just want one perfect thing.
6:40 p.m. Okay they were perfect but then I ruined one of the nails walking back and I tried to paint over it with the black I have at home and fucked it up. Then I fucked up another one. Are they not set?? Did I not wait long enough and they are still drying?? I’m so upset. I try to fix the second one and end up fucking it up. Then I strip the color off both and while doing that, fuck up another. WHAT IS GOING ON!?? Life is cruel.
8:00 p.m. I’m literally still having a breakdown over my nails. It went from perfect, to a little fucked up, to now really fucked up because I’m trying to fix them (STILL) and it isn’t working. I am not patient. Things are not drying fast enough and I keep trying to live life and fucking them up. I AM NEVER PAINTING MY NAILS AGAIN. I am stressed out. I need a drink. I remove all of the polish on every nail and feel defeated. I think of John Ashbery and his weird lines. That’s all that matters.
9:20 p.m. I can’t tell if these bartenders think it’s cool or sad that I’m by myself again. I won’t say where. But anyway. I like being by myself. So much. It’s Saturday night though. I start working on the weird poem again. I’m just drinking like one glass of white wine. And one glass actually really helps my brain relax and stop questioning itself.
10:00 p.m. I finish the weird poem. I’m actually excited by it. Send some tweets. A million people have texted throughout the day. I haven’t responded to them. Not for any reason but. I’m sad. They want to do stuff and I already did my party thing last night. The truth is, I can’t “perform” and “hang out” all that much when I’m truly sad. I have to be just minor sad for that. And I’m major sad about this relationship/friendship thing ending. I don’t even know what to call it. Like anyway. We aren’t thinking about it anymore.
11:20 p.m. I send a few people some very sad texts. I will regret doing this.
4:40 a.m. I wake up and can’t go back to bed and regret the sad texts. But I was honest. And vulnerable. UGH I HATE THAT.
7:20 a.m. I’m going to stay in bed and try to write.
11:00 a.m. I post a weird thing about time on my stack. I wrote it in like 7 minutes. I didn’t even know I would write it. This is what happens when I don’t hang out with people. My brain gets back to itself. Or I’m very lonely. It’s anyone’s guess.
1:00 p.m. More writing.
6:20 p.m. I send D some voice notes. Like A LOT of voice notes. I am explaining what is making me so sad. And also angry today. I miss him a lot. He is going to move back to New York at some point. I think. He’s an Aries. Aries people always get me. They are the sign that, when everyone’s like, Alex sucks! They see through it. They know I might suck sometimes but I’m also a child inside. Just like them. And it’s so hard to be a child. Everything hurts you. If you’re a child and reading this, I love you.
11:08 p.m. Here I am. Typing these out from my phone. Yes, I am retyping them out. Not just copy and pasting. Cause I want to add things. As I am retyping, a kind of talky vibe is happening and I add stuff here and there. I’m also not going to say exactly what week it was. With dates. I mean usually the previous one from the date I hit send here. But it could not be! Who knows. I’m surprised I saw so few people this week. Or maybe I saw a lot?? Yes, I am trying to spend more time alone. That’s the real me. I know everyone thinks I’m “so social.” And I am, I guess. To a point. I don’t know. Life is so weird. Will I ever be happy?