I’ve Been Having Trouble Trying to Say This (For a Long Time)
“I hate all the presidents,”
is what she said, to no one in particular.
I know what her face will be like,
in 10 long ones.
Consciousness doesn’t seem to be equal,
not with someone like her.
She just reminds me of everyone else.
Like my Facebook friends. All of whom get engaged and married a lot.
another one popping up now
that was fast
a marriage so quick
you’d never know,
how crazy she was
I try to tell a friend I don’t think I want that, in the lobby of a Midtown hotel. Maybe because it’s Saturday…
The beach house decor, mimosas, the pretty girl in front of me, her stark white teeth. It’s all creeping me out.
Before this moment, I’d gone to my favorite place in the East Village for Indian food. I used to go there with my friend from China. I didn’t know much about Indian food and she had to leave the States because nobody would pay for her visa. I carried on our tradition by ordering takeout and never talking to her.
They do not let me eat my chicken tikka masala in the scary beach-themed bar. This is a symptom of how fucked the world is. Everybody wants you to buy their shitty bar food.
Another friend is pushing all my buttons: self-serving, self-pity, self-immolation.
So many things everyone has to say about themselves, all the time. And I usually don’t say a thing.
I’m asked if he’s losing me.
“We are always gonna be friends,”
I must lie.
Something bad happens to me. Usually I say that when something bad happens to me, I am reminded of everything bad that has ever happened to me before this bad thing. But this doesn’t remind me of anything. It’s new.
I am told Islam means submission - how ironic! Something so peaceful.
Submission is a violence. Like everyone else in this life, you are against you.
Punishment has always been offered to me. It follows on a long, tight leash.
And it’s made everything funny; like how nothing can ever feel good, only bad.
I guess I was scared of how much I trusted you. Like water in your hands. I let you do anything - anything! Realizing maybe you had the capacity to do just that. What does it make me?
I feel like I’m being poisoned. I feel like I’m not getting enough air. I think everybody might be out to get me now.
These feelings sit with me all day. I request a week off from work and decide I’ll need to sleep in a spare office until everything in my life goes away. Just vanishes.
If all the streets, phone calls, beds, alcohol, ellipticals, sunsets, and roommates just left me alone. Just leave me alone.
I don’t know how to be vague about the next part; I’ve been thinking of ways to make it sound nicer, more beautiful, but I am very depressed.
Depressed people like me have to sleep a lot. I am trying to sleep at the office. When I sleep in this room, my coworker will close the door, hiding me. It’s a reminder that there’s kindness just for the sake of it.
Your parents used to tuck you in, and people would smile at you in your stroller. You didn’t do anything to earn it. You didn’t do anything to be here now.
There’s a way to not be so angry. I know there’s a tunnel underneath the subway system that will lead me there. I can’t take anyone else with me, but I can make it.
It’s going to take me all the way to Ohio, back to my old apartment. It’s a sunny morning, one where I can stand outside in my pajamas. I hear people cheering and laughing. I walk down the street and there’s a parade; I don’t know why.
There is no holiday or announcement, just people lining sidewalks. And I know them all - every single person. They are my neighbors. They live with me, right here.
The sun is shining on my face and I am going to be sun burnt, but I love to watch.
So I stand barefoot in my pajamas in the middle of my street. I start to cry. This is the last time I felt God. I thanked Him for giving me this moment, one where I could see how beautiful life is. I know I am leaving, so I can finally let go.
