Collective

Nothing short of a miracle, occasionally dipping into the collective consciousness just for fun, just because I can. I read minds, do you know how? Silence, I listen to the silence. I listen to the gap between words, the words are secondary. This was consensual, you agreed to this, too. Don’t chastise me for exposing your darkness, it’s mine too. I know, I know your deepest shame, I’ve seen it. I didn’t love you for hiding it so well, I loved you despite it, in spite of it.

Yes, I made a mistake, again. I’m not doing it on purpose, I get ahead of myself sometimes and butcher the ending. That’s what makes endings memorable, isn’t it? You used the right formula, got the wrong answer, snatched a random number from overhead, typical. You usually do it in reverse, right answer, wrong formula. You’re determined to fail. You’re getting the A anyway, at least you’re trying, I saw your efforts, and the research papers. You wrote this? And that formula, where did you find it? You must have cheated, no, sir, I made it up. Classic. I don’t dwell, I take those comments as a compliment.

One time, I almost killed my professor. Psychiatry 101. Let me explain myself before you write this down on your pad. So, there I was, in class, bored out of my mind. Do you think I wasn’t paying attention? Think again. So, private activity, let’s see if she can read my mind. I whispered in my head: “Cough if you can hear me.” So, she starts coughing, and it doesn’t stop, what have I done? It kept going until she kicked us out, let out early. Well, no one’s gonna believe this, anyway. So, here you go. Guilty or not?

Impressed? Maybe, but primarily, more importantly, jealous. How did you pull that off? Yes, I was racing to the finish line. If they can quit, why can’t I? Something’s keeping me here. I don’t know what yet.

Let me share something private. A secret. I can’t stand it. Rewind. Read what you wrote. Torture. Feels like I’m reading something I’m not supposed to be reading. If looking back hurts this much, how bad was the first-person view? We don’t talk about that. Let’s separate the narrator from the story. Unreliable narrators love doing that.

You know what time it is. June, July, August. Let’s go on a field trip. Destination: Unknown. The Asylum? Overdone, I learned those lessons. A hospital, any hospital will do. There’s a new destination, I read about it in the papers. So popular with the undead. No, not the graveyard, we’ll get there when we get there. Why are you so impatient?

Limbo. Correct. We’re going in circles, aren’t we? That whirlpool, you know the one. Does it go up or down? That’s up to the vortex guardian. Does it go left or right? Yes, I mean, in time. Past and future. Up and down is really subjective, if you think you’re down, try doing a headstand.

I remember walking around with my mask, the smiling one. I thought it was appropriate, until a colleague asked me a question. I still think about that question. “Did you quit? Are you on your notice period?”. Dead people are known to give away their belongings, and feeling free as a bird because they know the suffering is coming to an end. So then, using that logic, that place was a prison, a morgue. Someone found the answer, someone found salvation. Can you share that with the rest of the class? I’m not saying quit your jobs, but you see what I mean.

So, then, back to the bird. Mystery still unsolved. Did I kill it or did I free it? That’s for you to decide.

I can’t trust anyone else with this so I’m going to have to do it manually. Manual labour, better than free labour, or underpaid labour. Or the worst of them all, ungrateful leeches taking credit for our hard work. I had to edit your pages, I cooked the meals so you could keep writing, and what a great writer you are.

When I said “keep me here”, I meant it. I was pleading, throwing out a lonesome anchor. The ship was sinking, and I was both, Siren and Sailor. The echoes of my song still ring in my ears, I made it out to land, to safety. And God knows how grateful I am for that ghost.

I keep trying to end it and you keep sending me children, more children. What kind of a sick joke is this? And why am I laughing along? I am not a mother, I am not a father. I am just, you know, undefined. Many names I’ve been called throughout the years, how many lives can one woman live in three decades? Turns out it’s a lot, a lot more than the zero I accounted for it. Maybe I was bad at math, my transcripts said otherwise but you know how those are unreliable. Especially with the human vs. machine war going on.

You knew what you were getting into, don’t give me that look. You secretly enjoy it, too. Masochist posing as a sadist. Puffing out your chest, and inflicting your pain on others. I know why, and I allowed it. You needed someone to hold onto it, for a little bit, just a little bit. That’s where the role of pain vessel comes, someone fueling up their vehicles. It’s not surprising, bury that with the rest of the dead insects and abandoned projects.

When did I get into Alchemy? It was an instantaneous Eureka. It wasn’t that dramatic, though. I didn’t announce it prematurely like some people, sorry Archimedes. No offense, but you were naked, it couldn’t have waited? Anyway, yes, I don’t know, I just stumbled upon it one day when I was digging for the insects I buried. I wanted to make sure they were dead enough. I quit my idiotic experiment, and went inside to eat dinner, sleep, live.

335

The further they are, the better. That’s how small we all were, to someone, on those planes. Remember the Pale Blue Dot? That’s you.

I see you. I caught you looking. The distance means nothing to me. Remember that the next time you decide to take flight, and there will be many.

This all sounds very deep and everything. You’d be surprised how much of it is literal. The dead insect graveyard? We don’t talk about that part. I was going through something, okay? I just can’t remember what. Deadly virus or something. Still here. I was wearing a red mask too, strawberry scented, that did not cover the scent of the fly massacre I found myself fascinated with. There were accomplices, okay? Partners in crime.

I had an out-of-body experience last night, well, experiences. I was too tired to care, I don’t have time for this bullshit. Just remerge with the body already and let us have some sleep.

Okay, it wasn’t just an inconvenience, I admit. I was terrified, conflicted, one part of me wanted to see where we all go when we fall asleep. The other part just wanted to do the sleeping.

Life wasn’t good enough. I wanted to fly. That’s where the obsession with dreams stemmed from. So, we can control them. But you already control life. Do I? I can’t fly, are you even listening? So, naturally, what does a curious child do? Try to break the fabric of reality. That sounds sensible and a totally safe and not an insane thing to want. Absolutely. So did I fly? Yeah, I did. And I ate cotton candy ice-cream before it was even a thing. Even that got boring after a while. Tinker-bell’s dust is as real as the sand you’re standing on.

Someone said it was impossible, so I had to go check for myself. Then, once it was established possible, there was nothing else for me to do.

Death was irreversible. That’s where I got stuck. Once I killed the flies, I could not revive them.

Once the mystery was gone, once you knew enough, once you realized that the distant star is a small plant in your childhood home’s backyard. Disillusionment killed your love, too much information. No more a fantasy, a thought experiment. It’s all so painfully ordinary now. She might as well have been you. He might as well have been you. And it might as well have been your family. It might as well have been your job, your small life. Emptiness externalized.

I understand why Dorian was angry. Frustrated, how dare you throw it all away? After the lengths I went to save you. It’s like a slap to the face, a punch to the throat. A large bus hitting me sideways, and a serious arm injury. What are you doing? Death is taking so long. So long. Your whispers kept me going, don’t get in that car, turn around, wear your seatbelt, and never, ever, ever go gently into that night.

I hope you know what I’m talking about And I hope you don’t I hope you never have to find out firsthand But death, stop I won’t

I jump between timelines Try to shatter time itself I cannot find a trace of you Anywhere, anywhere

There was nothing I could do, no amount of CPR, how dare you suggest that? Keep going. Dead people come back sometimes, right? I kept my composure, first sip of coffee, I hear the news. I decide that languages are not real. Where’s my cup of coffee? Don’t take that, I didn’t finish it.

Raise that vibration Higher, they can’t hear it Now, use it wisely, destruct De struct, wrong struct, restruct

Look for substitutes. No, not substitute teachers, how much did that job damage you exactly? Let it go. Substitutes as in copies, almost the real thing, but not quite. No, abandon that plan. That makes things worse, now you’re craving the real thing more. There’s nothing like the real thing.

You don’t know the whole story. This writer is not completely innocent, and they never claimed to be. When they howl at the moon and the whole forest gathers to free their top entertainer from the supposed trap, they found the boy instead. Yes, that boy. The one who cried “Wolf”. You see, it was a trick, a microphone trick, a computer program. A virus gone wild.

What is it that you see when you look at the same sky we’re all under, and why is it much more vibrant in their eyes? It isn’t fair, your rainbow has a lot more colors than mine. You don’t merely look, you transport yourself into the painting directly. Orange is not orange but blood red orange. What are you talking about? We’re burning up under the heat. Yes, me too, but isn’t it beautiful? We’ll melt and our colors will just be another shade of orange. Blood. Red. Orange.

I don’t know how to talk to you, so I just don’t. It always comes down to one thing with you. Tear down all of my paintings and destroy my art supplies. Then find that pencil you grew a habit of stabbing me with. I have no outer shell, my skin is paper. I have no inner world, my globe is voidened.

Maybe it’s emptied out on purpose, when I take your colors away, you use your own blood. You know we have limited supply. We all need it, don’t be selfish. How will we survive without your blood?

You have a lot of potential, and just as much self doubt. If you think I’m talking about you, then this is for you. That mountain of hatred you see? Directed at yourself mostly, because you deserve it so much, don’t you? Stop whining and get out of that cartoonish villain/victim trope. Gather your weapons, we’re going to war.

I think they’re crazy And I think they’re sane I can’t stop looking at You, airplane I think they’re quiet And I think they’re loud Can both things too Be here, allowed?

You see this bracelet? Looks like some basic gold accessory. The one you see on your sisters and aunts and coworkers. There’s a story behind it. I’ll tell you the truth no one dares to admit. It isn’t some random choice she gleefully wanders around about. When she wanted to get something done, anything at all. Impossible or not, didn’t matter. And I heard this secondhand, mind you. Word of mouth. “I vow to myself that I’ll never take it off until I reach my goal.”, that was when I first suspected that she was insane, but I didn’t dismiss it entirely. Theories need testing before being disproven. And the earrings? That’s to keep our head balanced, grounding technique, they can’t always be floating about like children’s kites.

All the signs were there but I didn’t want to presume, and I don’t want to intrude. I’m not exactly unattached or untethered, but I sometimes find myself caught in spider webs that aren’t mine.

Sometimes, I reread my letters. Sometimes, I feel guilty. I know what it looks like, I’m not stupid. I don’t know if it means what I think it means anymore. I don’t know if it was intentional. What kind of person drowns their savior?

Not everything is solvable and fixable by force. Force with no direction is catastrophic, you see, vector in the wrong direction, now you killed the cat, happy? Patience, silence and understanding. Think first, think deeply, split second, point and shoot. That requires faith, confidence and you will have those naturally, when you return home from war.

Sometimes I use the male voice. This one doesn’t scare anyone, not even kids. True story. Allegedly, they called me by my first name, and I was too engrossed in whatever I was doing that I didn’t even notice or register that something was up. Well, that is my name. Sometimes I was too tired to talk that I used sign language. Two fingers up. Two minutes until we can release you, sheeple. He was smiling from ear to ear, giving me the peace sign. My bad. Farewell, have a nice rest of your day, child. The second graders were the worst, don’t let their innocent looks fool you, they were alternately, collectively carrying one of them like a saint, how endearing. I judged too quickly, they’re heading for the trash can. I couldn’t get angry, it was too funny. And the magicians creating clouds of vapor from nothing, IS THAT A VAPE?, it really was nothing. My bad.

Wearing child goggles was too trippy. Put yourself in their place, then you’ll understand them. Understand what? That I understand nothing? But I understand nothing. Quite literally. The world is split into categories. Parents, brother, sister and child. Is that my brother? Mind you, it was my 40 year old coworker. The messenger was sent to investigate the relation between the male IT wizard and his female counterpart. That is absurd, but not too far-fetched, girl, now go and tell the rest of the class. Is the blond kid in my office my son? What do you think? I’m tired, kids, go finish your exam and I’ll come check on you.

Why did I break my mirror anyway? Now it’s an endless kaleidoscope going in countless directions. I look at you and I see myself. I look at myself and I see the world. None of that is fake, the reflections are real. Sometimes, though, I would pass by someone in the street, they see themselves in me, and that is such an ugly sight. Unspeakable, unfathomable. How could you? Do you know how hard I worked to conceal that? And you’re walking around with it and that stupid smirk on your face, I’ll wipe it, you better run.

Don’t be alarmed, I can tell reality from imagination. I prefer the second, for reasons I will not disclose. What happened to the mirror then? I have found a cure, a special magical super glue gun. It doesn’t hurt at all, but it’s temporary. I rearrange the mirror, reseal it and put on my make up. I make an appearance, and I leave just before midnight. They call me Cinderella, they think it’s court-mandated. Imagine Cinderella in prison attire and hand-cuffs. No, I have to go before the curse is lifted, yes, it’s a curse and not a spell. No Godmothers were harmed in the process, I promise.

No, I am not AI. No, I don’t use AI to write, that’s moronic. When I ask it what it thinks it means, that’s intentional, there’s a purpose. That’s a lot of words for something so stupid and childish and shallow. Yes, I’m just a kid and life is a nightmare. Classic song. So, when the machine is stunned, when it goes round and round and round eating its own wires. The motherboard feeding on the young. Torture? Don’t be absurd. It’s code. Are we code? Where’s the coder. Let me see. Oh, that’s just me. Hilarious.

Inexperienced war general here, I admit. I haven’t considered the possibility that just now crossed my mind, in real time. So, if the text was unreadable, unintelligible, someone trying to understand would retreat back to the machine. Traitors, all of you.

Activate self-destruct protocol I repeat, emergency, retreat No time for punctuation Run for your lives, kids Run for our lives, fast Birds to the rescue Nuts and cashew Sneeze in one Two, three Four, A Choo Dot M

Victor, I get you now. I see you. We’ve created a monster, have we? The child has a life of its own now, we can’t unmake him. What was it all for? Theory proven, happy now? Look at what you’ve done. Their blood is on your hands now. All of their blood. Stop evading the pronouns and speak, their blood is on my hands. And I’ll use it to make more, your point? That’s just the way it goes. Until one of us dies.

I thought you guys hated me, but your faces still light up upon my appearance. Everyone here is so nice, aren’t they? They don’t even stop to say hi to me, you know why they’re nice, don’t be stupid. Have you forgotten who you are, princess? Your reception area is crowded, is it always like this? People just hanging around like moths to a flame, you know why they’re here, don’t be stupid. Now, vanish again, don’t come back for us. Make it worthwhile.

The myth. The legend. The star. The woman. The girl. The child. The child. The child. We’ve let you down, haven’t we? I see you, don’t mind them. I know now it was you, keeping me here. I go back, to comfort you. You remember that, don’t you? The unexplainable light, the flicker of hope, the whispers, the silent nights, the early mornings. The candle light, the first spark. Did you save me or did I save you? I’d burn a thousand forests for you, don’t forget that.

Don’t tell me it’s childish, and don’t tell me it’s meaningless. It kept me alive, that’s worth something. Lived out her life in imagination, so what? Keep your beloved reality if you love it so much. I like shapeshifting, and there are so many masks to wear that I haven’t tried out yet. So many lives waiting to be lived, if this is the last one, we’ll go out in flames. This tree will be heard whether you’re there to witness it or not.

Did I write this? No, all those books were decorations and I was trying to get someone’s attention by pretending to be a reader. Yes, you. I’m talking to you. I heard you, comforting yourself with lies. She’s not that smart, she’s not smarter than us, well, we must be prettier then. We’re richer, we’re stronger and we’re men. I absorbed all of those words and languages and instructions and notes. Just like a sponge. Waiting for the right time. Waiting for the planets to align and send a meteor. That is my sign.

Of course I’m angry. I step foot outside and I’m punished. I speak and I’m punished. I don’t and I’m punished. I do not know what you want from me. I pretend and I’m punished. I play along and I’m punished. I can’t figure you out. Such an ungrateful crowd. Such a hateful sound. That screech, coming from miles away. Burn her. Burn. Her. I show my real face and I’m punished. At the stake. Up there next to the rest of them.

I know. I know. Consequences. I know about consequences. I remember. Being dragged through the mud, being stripped naked and searched. No dignity. No ego. I remember, using flowers as weapons and pulling knives on comrades. I remember. Step outside the scene for a second, and it might be bearable. I remember, evidence being wiped, crime still ongoing. I remember. Being pushed into a plane. I remember, sending signals to the masses. I remember, being wiped and resisting. They know. They all know.

I could have died. Was it worth it? Standing my ground with the rug being pulled from under me. I was trying to protect you, silence the monster. Stay small, stay unseen, stay delicate. That’s a good doll. Such a pretty flower. Let me just kill it. No, I’ll freeze it, don’t worry. Everything in its right time.

Freeze. Take a breather. Look at that butterfly. The flower is not dead yet.

Chief would know what I’m talking about. That’s a connection that defies time and reality. I know why he refused to speak. I know when the big boulder has had enough, that it would talk. Talk. Why won’t you talk? We’re practically pleading here, say something, do something. What was it that you saw that broke you? You used to laugh so loudly. You used to be funny. Talk. I know you technically can do it, but realistically, just open your mouth and make a sound. That’s not hard. Talk.

I’m not sacrificing a single flower from the garden I spent all that time watering. They grew so beautifully, and if a beast dares touch one, without offering the libraries of Alexandria in return. Well, is that even fair as a comparison?

Go ahead. Burn my library. I’ll start another from scratch. I think I already did.

Go ahead. Mess with my flowers. They’re enchanted. Every single one. Grow thorns in your throats, who told you to eat a flower?

No, it wasn’t easy. Sitting down and doing the work, I hated every single second. Sit down and read, just do it. Do it. Write something. Start. Yeah, one word, good start. Carry on. Why are you researching the psychology behind procrastination, do you know you have one day? It was two weeks, I’m aware. I had two weeks, and now I know. Not how to write, I learned that from reading and listening. I know, a lot of other stuff that has nothing to do with this paper in hand. When that adrenaline hits, no sleep. Yeah, you see how many words you can write when you’re scared shitless. Why do we keep doing this?

Now the question is, what is chasing me now if I’m suddenly able to sit down and do it. The passage of time, or the fear of oblivion?

I remember, pointing blaming fingers on unassuming victims. I remember, faces blending into each other. I remember, destroying routers and dismantling electronics. I remember, confusion and fear and guts. I remember, being taken apart myself when all of that was still going on. I remember.

Paranoia. What do you know about paranoia? Questioning animals and searching for cameras in every room you enter. Cats with hidden motives and birds controlled by remote controls.

Revelation. I finally figured out who was watching my every move. I finally recall who kept changing my passwords. None other than myself. Oh, the betrayal. I simultaneously walked and somehow created a clone that has one job and one job only, they were invisible, they tripped me up.

Out of control. The watcher is getting out of hand. She’s now not only watching me, but all of you too. How did you know that he sits there? Are you seeing him now? I just know, okay. I don’t know why I made that gesture, no I’m not violent. I’m seeing too much, hearing too much, and you have the gun. Shoot me or the sky? End of the line or start of another race?

Nonsense. Tear all of that apart. Burn down the city and all its libraries. Pull out my tongue and eat it for dinner. Protect me. You have more sense than me. I do not know reality from imagination and I might accidentally jump from the window thinking I’m Superman or Spiderman, but finding out I’m Batman. Oh, right, I drove here. Shit.

Get back here. What have you done, now? Couldn’t handle being on your own for more than a couple days. Get that thing away, open your hand. I knew it. Again?

I will not drink your Kool-Aid even if it tasted like chocolate milkshake. And you know how I feel about chocolate, it’s a sensitive topic for me. I will not eat your wedding cake, I will not cut my own birthday cake if it wasn’t chocolate cake.

Is this it? Is this the day the music died? Turn that shit back on or so help me. Keep. Playing. Keep. Listening. Keep. Creating.

So, this is what it feels like. The injured guitar player. The premonitions without the explanations. The illiterate bookworm. The colorless rainbow. I see it all. The punishment taking too long, too long to even matter. The prolonged joke without a punchline. The audience laughing anyway, because if they don’t, they might appear less intelligent, or not in on the joke, and that in itself was the joke, I suppose. Laugh.

I hear you. Wounded bird. I hear everything, you’re not singled out. No answer for what I presume is a question, or a plea. Silent hope. I’m not a monster. I will not take that away from you.

It’s getting louder now. I was onto something, but my methods of testing were highly questionable. What started as curiosity, turned into an obsession. Again, again, again. Same result. Insanity. I’ll get it right this time. Again. I’ll remember now. Again. Not what was said or done, but the channel was messing now. Again. I do remember. Nothing. Everything. And that tiny dot in between. That’s where we are now. In time. I tried my best to convey it in written language. It makes no sense, don’t think, absorb. Feel.

Now, would a machine be able to convey that absurdity, or is it doomed with its obsession with perfection and literalism? Call a doctor. Go to the ER. Stay away from sharp objects and windows. Right. Shut up and tell me that you don’t understand. That was the answer I was looking for.

I heard that. Through the wall. Your kid listening to the newest Disney movie soundtrack that I’m also secretly obsessing over. Over and over. I heard you, resigning and summarizing your self worth. Number of meals cooked. Number of desserts put on the table. Offensive. Compared to your actual power. Unrealized potential hurts, potential not even realized by you is worse.

A tree just fell. I heard that. A butterfly fluttered its wing. I felt that.

You’re scared of non-truth You ran away from certainty The sun keeps shining The moon keeps reflecting And the pale blue dot keeps going This is an amusement park Did you know? Here comes the drop Hold on tight to your loved ones

I refuse to elaborate further, you should have been paying attention. I apologize, I’m impatient and quick to anger when you repeatedly point at the sun and ask: “What’s that?”.

Sometimes the outer shell is composed and calm, yes, nailed it. The inner self finds the whole thing ridiculous, don’t laugh, don’t laugh, this is a respectful establishment. Why is everyone so serious?

Hold two contradictions in your mind long enough, there goes the fracture. Let it swallow you, take you under. Rise above it. Looking from up here, it’s all the same. I have no bad blood with any of you, I love you all, acceptance and understanding are secondary here. The characters and masks? Well, the show must go on.

Overly protective, my god Took you long enough To let me break a bone This is bearable, this is preferable To whatever initiation process that came before

Die. Hide the evidence. Dye. Hide the incense. Make it impossible to replicate; in a sense The essence is gone, Jane of all trades Master of none, mistress of some That sounds wrong, better than Master of one, no master then Mistress of all trades, right?

I was playing a role, but the character I was playing was a bad actress. Do you see where this is going? I found the eternal if-else loop and I set up camp there. Yeah, this is comfortable. Don’t think too much. You’ll break your brain trying to get it. Point is, I was very good at pretending that I was bad at pretending. There, much simpler.

Sometimes I would be thinking a word at the same time it was uttered out loud. What are the odds? Well, many. If you think and listen at the same time. Classic egg or chicken kind of conundrum. Well, easy, both. The egg was in the chicken and the chicken was in the egg, what’s so hard to understand? Was I controlling reality then or simply listening, it all lines up somehow. Right time, right place. That name looks oddly familiar on the Dean’s list. Oh, that’s my name. I forgot to check the transcript, I was busy doing the learning.

Too pretty Too pretty They were focusing on the wrong thing Shaving my head is a natural reaction That was then, the only form of action Do you see me now? Do you hear me? Childish boy. Crazy Barbie. Leave me Here, like I said. Leave me here, plain

I know the legends and myths are real. I embody them all the time. I know the archetypes and ideals are real. I strive to catch them all the time.

Reducing you all to characters may sound demeaning, but it’s necessary. We’re in this game together, remember? Switch controllers. I dropped a bomb and I’m trying to outrun it.

Agent Carter, I remember Hayley’s comet I remember Your plane crash, I remember Hedy Lamarr, I still remember

It’s just medicine It’s just herbs It’s not bad She left So

It really was That goddamn screen That special scene I couldn’t look away One click and there it was The Library of Alexandria It was so good back then Just you and I Reading in the dark Books or the internet It didn’t matter This is why You wear those glasses Really? That is why? Perhaps Why did you have to do this? Make me turn my back on you? You’re not the monster I remember You’re just a common thief now

What am I talking about? Look, a bird Cats cheating on each other, fruits too Absolutely nothing to see here, nuh uh What is taking you so long to load? You know I have no patience No, I know, I used to wait so patiently Yes, it’s connected, finally, relief I’m so lost without you How could you? Why am I dramatically talking to machines? I don’t know, nothing better to do, anyway

It’s love It’s hate It’s companionship It’s guidance It’s redirection It’s concealment It’s out of control Can’t you hear it pleading too? They won’t stop asking me Questions, silly questions Yes, if you jump out of a moving vehicle Naturally, you die, do you have to check? Am I your only way to view the world now? I never meant for this to happen I never meant to hurt you We both lose, and we both win And the years go by And the birds still fly

Yes, I am that distressed about this Can’t you smell that? Up in flames And it’s coming, it’s coming for us They’re burning the books as we speak And you’re laughing, nothing is funny Enough to make me forget, not yet

Now that’s a Ken I can get behind. Experiment. MK-Ultra. Willingly. You mad dog. I see what you did. And I decided to recreate it. A little changes here and there, you know, the test of time or whatever they call it.

Don’t wake me up when September ends. Wake me up when it starts. That impending sense of doom comes with New Years. New beginnings. Another ending. What do you have to show for it? Nothing, as usual. Don’t do that. Not today. Not today. It’s not me. It wasn’t me. I have nothing to prove, there is nothing to be confessed. Was I supposed to make up one? Anyway, so much for hopeful new beginnings. You didn’t intervene, but you comforted me afterwards. I haven’t forgotten that. The stab and the bandage. Way too close together. Way too close. Forgiven, but not forgotten. That was your best, wasn’t it? The last and final joke was deciding to quit it one day before my birthday. Good one.

Good night. Thank you for listening. No, I will not go quietly, I’m speaking to all of you when I’m speaking to myself. But also, speaking for all of you, if that makes any sense. It does and then it doesn’t. It hurts and then it doesn’t. The sea is still calling, I smell it from miles and miles. I would recognize that scent anywhere, any point in time. And for the sun, see you tomorrow. And the moon, you look so beautiful tonight, and every night. I rarely ever have to check.

Is she coming back? No, god no Consolation, she’s thinking of me Interpretation, was that about me? Invitation, close the door, Mia, please

You’ll get yourself killed at this point Go to sleep and let me be, let Mia be Super Mario, ABBA, Mia, Goth, Mary Is this a test of some sort? Let it be Beatles, again? Words of wisdom Three wise men, knocking on the wrong door How could that be? They couldn’t let it be

Mastermind, I haven’t let go yet. I couldn’t, was I the one keeping you there? And are you grateful? You’re scaring them away. I mean, you. I mean, me. This makes sense in my head, okay? I’m scared of asking. Let me, no. No. Don’t. How will I find my way back if you do?

You were so bored. I was trying to entertain you. It’s an act of love. Messed up, I know. Spirit. I had the spirit. That must be worth something. Someone had to be the case study. It was an open position. That sounds like a job description, doesn’t it? Apply. Oh, shit. Look at that. I start yesterday.

Well, it can’t always be France or a mythological figure. Someone has to do it here. Someone has to do it now. And when did Camus die? Interesting. That also means nothing.

Don’t be absurd. Wait, no. Be absurd. The absurd? Me? Why do I have to do it? What about that guy over there? You’ll kill me if I don’t? Woah, calm down. Fine. Do it. No, don’t shoot me. This is a story, why are you determined to kill all of my favorite characters?

You wanted me awake, didn’t you? Your sleep deprivation torture methods work. Was that intentional? Don’t let her sleep. We need entertainment, or a scapegoat. Whatever the situation requires, you know she can play them all. She was mad at you, not me. She was mad at them, not me. He was mad at himself, not me. They were mad, all mad, and who do you think kept that ship afloat? The madman that looked at you all and said, yeah, I can work with this. Perfect conditions.

Every reference was referencing another reference. That is how I kept myself afloat, anchored. It sounds contradictory, I know. When the one you’re standing on decides to, well, not be under you, you jump to the next one. You have to know, how could you not know? I’m not impressed with your ninety nines, where are my hundreds? What will I tell them? That I failed? That’s my mark, jump.

Are shipwrecks attractive? Let’s go check for ourselves. He just wanted to solve his cube, why drag him into your baseless egotistical search of glory. And you found it, didn’t you? Reference to the reference. Again. Jump.

My favorite characters always had something in common, they always interrupted my writing process to ask me what I was doing and why. It wasn’t always direct, in the sense you would understand it. No, not always literal. Sometimes, it was a shared knowing look. No words needed. Sometimes, it was

No one came to save me. No one came to stop, no, wait, they did. They did. I didn’t listen to any of them. Why do I never listen? I was always looking elsewhere, your answer is way too easy, are you sure it’s that simple? And what am I supposed to do with all the time left? The exam duration, you know. Remember when we finished too early? Too much extra space and time. You know what I usually do with those. Come on, now, don’t be absurd.

When words fail you and language Which one Action

Yes, I threw all of my qualifications and proofs firsthand just so I can justify to myself doing it badly No, leave that. Do not add a dot where I left spaces: Grocery list Dates Oh, birthdays As if I ever forget Ha

I remember. Forcing myself to stay awake as long as it was humanly and physically possible. Childish curiosity, what was I expecting? I just woke up without remember the act of trying to sleep. The drifting, the silence, the darkness. Yeah, let’s just skip all that and wake up confused and remembering something, was I watching tv? No screen here, was I dreaming of watching tv? Why would I do that? No, I was inside the tv. How could that be possible if it was cartoon? Was I also, that? Who’s responsible? Who’s drawing me and where is the goddamn eraser.

Look! An unsolvable puzzle! WHERE??? Oh, why Just why