It can be hard to accept when things are over Pain so undeserved, contextually irrelevant. Hard lessons in a different field, unforgotten faux pas. Her mother abandoned her cause, knowing full well that narcissism and judges are legally incompatible. What remains after the enormity of loss? Flying clubs I never joined and relationships, sometimes thankfully, destroyed. The Pope is talking about A.I. A tool we now use only in separate ways. “You fucked off to America and bought a church.” And who could blame me? After a life so empty, winding down to a few threadbare friendships, a consequence of imposed impoverishment. What I once perceived as grotesquely fake reads now as careful self-cultivation. Up is down, bottom to strange, righty loosey. You insisted my terms were unacceptable, so I went missing from the place you wished to shelve me.
Let me go.
I went Where the Wild Things Are, on The Polar Express and out The Matrix. Everything has a cost, and I have paid them. The check is in the mail with my annual report and benefits. I’m not in uniform anymore, and when I heard her mowing the lawn, I burst into tears. Adopted kitten adjusts to foster mom cat. Screaming and crying can end, with care. Some Youtube videos hurt in the worst of ways. “I haven’t seen you in a while,” she said; I’d forgotten her name, the clear indication I’ve been living in the past, deprived of the space to be present. I soar aloft after months being pressed to the ground feeling my way through with serpentine determination. Free at last to survey and take stock of the upcoming expanse, a navigable prairie where I roost and hunt proudly. “The doors were supposed to be replaced anyway.” It’s true, I agreed, but you didn’t have to smash them on your way out.