top of page
  • Writer's pictureHailo

Hungover Musings, Summer Flings

26. Little Deaths/Delights

For better or worse, or better and worse, life always feels like some sort of dream to me.

This comes up a lot in my fiction, and while I'm reluctant to put my fiction in any sort of genre'd box, I'd say it leans toward surrealism.

I also get very vivid dreams. So vivid that I wake up feeling as if I was yanked out of another life. I find that this is further fueled by drinking. The fuzzying of memory to be recalled later.

And then there's the question of New York. We say it all the time -- "New York is not real," it's a city filled with gleeful social disruption for the sake of interest. (As my mother said at dinner today "New York is New York)

Like the gentleman who stopped me in SoHo to ask if I'd heard of some center for justice and offered me a table at Tao, breaths later. Have I already written that memory here? I don't remember. It all blends together in my mind.

I'm still stuck in last night's dream. Blue carpet. A beautiful mirror. A passage from We.

When I was 17, someone told me, "You can't live your life like a movie." I was offended and sad as that friendship melted away. Years later, I found it humorous. But now, I sort of landed in this place where I think it says a lot about how you view your own personhood and life.

I read somewhere that film is an aspirational view of life, but I only buy that for the viewer.

I think about artistic creation and then consumption as lending your heart, your mind, your eyes to someone else, for them to see the world in a new way. In your way. That's why it is so important. Art.

As my ex-boyfriend said that Dostoevsky said, beauty will save the world. It will, it will, it will.


onto some little deaths, finding the perfect summer fling, and other delightfully dumb stuff....


  • Vinegar forward martinis I tried a new martini at a bar in NoHo that I've decided to go into a phase with, ever since that other one became too too scene-y. Next drink.

  • Free champagne As I told the interns during our meeting today, I'm a very very high functioning hungover person. Plus, I swear music sounds better to the ears when you are. Someone confirm. Am I crazy?

  • A few of the men in my life have gotten it into their mind that I am evil  (see photo) I am a very nice girl...I promise.


  • Dinah Washington  her voice is so so so beautiful. ISO a dinah washington record in new york

  • The bartender at my current favorite bar remembering my Mother's name  also my parents are in town!

  • Big sunflowers  ones that look like they're saying hello


I had this date with a recurring character on here (but like a few times a season if you know what I mean) at a club in Meatpacking last week. He's sweet and he does not drink. Neither do I, on a Thursday at least.

The bouncer gave me a hard time about being from Kansas. I clicked my heels.

The next guy at the door asked what book I had in my bag. I showed him and told him I was visiting the author the next day. More on this, eventually.

So we're dancing. Someone is in the pool. Three people are making out to our left. But it's sort of nice. Being outside with someone. Being there to dance with one another and leave. It's not as much of a rambling journey as my typical night out, but it's nice.

This made me think of what makes a perfect summer fling. I think it's someone who wants to be outside with you. Someone who goes to things and invites you. Someone who will make a plan, but doesn't need to stick to it. And someone who doesn't expect too much of you (unless you're ready for attachment. But if that's you, then perhaps you should be reading something on Anderson II's corner of Hot Literati xxxooo).


the world is so big and the sky is always blue and sometimes it isn't. You are alive.

The 6th (re)Cognition Summer task is to write a short story with yourself as the main character. Use your imagination. Have fun. Write it in glee. Mail it to us.



share your deaths + delights in the comments <3


bottom of page