Downsizing Was a Bad Movie but a Good Word

Recently I had to scale down my heart. It was open too wide, and it didn’t need to be. The Grinch was a great movie because Jim Carrey is able to make his heart grow; Downsizing was a terrible movie because Matt Damon shrinks himself. Still, in theory, downsizing is the better idea.

Now that my heart is smaller, everything feels the same. When I walk down the street, I don’t mind if it’s the same street or if it’s a different street. It’s just a street. The train I sit on could have a lot of people, it could make me think - but it’s just a morning commute.

I don’t need my phone to actually tell me anything. At this point, I know the most important things. I know who hates me, I know the weather because I can see it, and I know my shoe size.

There are unknowable parts of the world; there is a fat psychic in Miami with dark circles and rotting teeth. She says I will have two children. A fat psychic in Ohio with cheap red hair said they would be blonde. I’ve known my blonde children since 2018; I think about them constantly - not with any particular sort of feeling.

The heart often felt huge, cumbersome. It was putting a birthday hat on and celebrating. Sooner or later, the heart would hurt.

I got a children’s journal that is supposed to track your mood. Every day I circle the resting face that says “CALM.” I don’t circle SAD or HAPPY, but I sometimes circle WORRIED.

I decided to start eating sardines from a tin can, because I am so sick of when I am on the train rides I pretend to not be on and I see my thighs touching a stranger’s. Every time I look down, I can’t believe it. I want to laugh.

In my head, I am very skinny. I’m 21. I get to fast forward through all the days I’m going to circle WORRIED. I’m prepared for when you’re going to hurt me. It won’t shock me, it won’t disappoint me. It missed my heart. My small, worrisome heart.