hey gabby.
we met because you took a chance on me. found out about me through ivy and decided to dm me. the older I get, the more I lose out on the details of things but we got together one day. you told me about how you were in the beginning of starting your magazine, timeless karma. in the thick of it organizing interviews, hitting up photographers (including me) for event coverage and other editorial shoots, juggling the realities of los angeles by working multiple odd jobs to chase after your dreams. and now you're slowly waking up and seeing those dreams still lingering, ushering them into reality. only you. it won't be only you for much longer, we're in it with you now. all your friends and the other weirdos you're betting on.
we wore this ironically.
I get anxious. very often. especially whenever I meet someone, take photos of someone (even worse if it's for someone). never once in the moments we've worked together, or had fun together, have I felt my breathing get heavy—the sweat beading, the eyes darting around the room... I feel your grace. your patience. you give me the freedom to explore, to wonder, to take the photos I would take in any other circumstance if I were alone in doing it. you give me your faith.
I remember the time we took photos of femme fiction at the whisky-a-go-go. I hadn't had the chance to shoot a concert in ages ever since sleezehog and trash mag stopped throwing shows. we met out front, got our tickets from will call, got pressed by security about not shooting video, and admired where we were. I still hate the venues on sunset, but you're a midwest girl in los angeles with her latino photographer getting coverage for the magazine she's working on. I find joy in joy, and you were beaming. it also might have been the vodka redbulls we were having that night.
and all the other shoots and hangs. I wanna get into them but I feel my allergies acting up but I loved watching the hangover as we were getting over our hangovers.
eventually, after months of designing, redesigning, and all the efforts you put into it—timeless karma finally came out. you brought me to the newsstand to take some photos of you with your physical copies before leaving them there to sell out in a couple days. you in your cunty shoes, in your cunty glasses. I'm glad I was free that day, to be there for you. even though my name was spelled wrong in the first issue—we'll fix it in the reprints.
I hope we're in each other's lives for a long time. imagine all the release parties we'll have, the pr crises we'll find ourselves in, the notes app apologies for not catching editorial errors, the big celebrity features we'll secure, the millions of dollars we're totally gonna make, the birthday dinners, the mansion parties, the house parties, the after parties—everything's a party with the two of us.
we're chasing dreams, we're chasing joy.
we'll get there.
together.
