I enjoyed dismantling those PCs
I enjoyed dismantling those PCs, and walking around with a screw gun. Closest thing to Michelle Pfeiffer, no, this isn’t Kill Bill, this isn’t Bruno Mars. This is me, why do you have to ask those stupid questions? No one’s making me do this, remember? I got you the glue gun, I was willing to help you and your students with the stupid art, that is, until you said that thing: “You women like doing this, right?”. Excuse me? That’s when I silently withdrew. I have the qualification, to hell with you and your stupid lego competition, I hope you lose. No, for the sake of them kids, yes, I’ll still show up. Is that really a question?
This is a warning tale. Not worth the hype. Everything is nothing. Electric cars are hackable, yes, your whoops too. How could you be so careless? Whoops, that’s a funny word. Oops. I’m burning the data centers, taking back my water. Breaking robot brains one at a time. No, I won’t. You did this to yourselves, now live with it.
We don’t have to speak, or one of us can do it. I was happy just sitting there in silence with you. I admit, sometimes I was busy and only answered the last sentence, like an AI prompt. It didn’t matter, sometimes I listened, and sometimes they cried in my office. I’m not equipped for this. Someone is in trouble. This doesn’t look like it’s the first time. The teacher seems distressed, the mother flabbergasted, and the kid, go sit there with that quiet nice lady. Can we keep him here? Sure, what the hell. I was trying to do my job, as usual, whatever that means. The child is mumbling under his breath, oh, he’s counting. Do you wanna do that out loud? Yes, go on. It went on for so long, dear reader, both languages too, how do I turn it off. Yes, pencils and papers, draw or write something, no, you’re not wrong it’s just from left to right. Inverted, in a mirror it would have been right. Anyway, real adults re-enter the scene, there’s the little shit, and he’s quiet? This proves nothing by the way, I’m sure he went on causing problems. Kids.
“A cube? You know I could solve that in seconds.” I’m pretty sure that’s not true, homie. And it’s a 5 by 5 so not even physically possible. Why do they have to do this? Teachers, dear reader, not students. I was so irritated all the time for a reason. The kids solved the cubes, demonstrated it, more impressive than what those “adults” were talking about.
I admit, I wasn’t surrounded by idiots, at least not in the way I make it sound. But it felt like that to me, they talked too much. There was no reason for it too, holding me hostage with words. Oh, yes, there were many reasons. So, you’re part of a team now, girl, how exciting? We’ll have weekly meetings, and talk too long about nothing in particular, nothing I cared about anyway. Why not release me? I was happy in my solitary office. I’m not sure if it was for my protection or theirs, but they moved me closer, higher up to be exact. I tried to distract myself with more work and reapplying lipstick. My head was swimming in the clouds when they tried to hold my attention long enough to understand why I could not, for the life of me, show up on time and regularly. Well the work was getting done, who do they think was responsible? Fairies or elves, perhaps.
You let go of my hand Or maybe you never held it Details I cannot remember Was I pulling myself up from my noose? I thought I had abandoned that plan When I sat on the floor of the stall Of an abandoned floor, kids off for the summer Everyone’s fasting, everyone’s excited about space I couldn’t let go when I saw the darkness He came running then, he always came running Or the closest equivalent of dads’ slow and careful driving, you know how they are Point is, I went home, I was home I never spoke a word of it But I think they knew
I really was supposed to be having the time of my life. But people kept logging off the game in fury. Chester, Robin, Kate, Anthony. If they couldn’t make it out alive, who am I to think that I had a chance? Stop talking about space, we’re not done here. I remember the most awkward meeting then, professors and my mother, and me. Always causing them headache. She’s the perfect candidate for this, talk some sense into your daughter. This is a safe space, are you in love? What does love have to do with anything, woman. I’m distressed, I don’t want to send Satellites to space, unless I can somehow use that to log off, too.
I failed that class, but hear me out. The professor kept asking for drafts, I don’t do drafts. The first one was perfect, I didn’t know how to improve what I believed to be perfect. Give me that. You don’t deserve to be reading this, anyway. That one was so heartless, I’m still confused because he taught me the difference between “affect” and “effect”, and it was wrong. Was that on purpose, deliberately trying to derail me? No, he was just old, I think. I hope it was just that. Where do they keep finding those eccentric individuals? I retook the class, way too late, because I had to actually meet people in real life to be able to register it. I hated that with a burning passion, my advisor asked me if I was a real person, that’s the face to the name that kept appearing but never actualized. Anyway, I got my A. A little late but I got there, I liked that professor more, anyway.
I was a professional bullshitter. None of my calculus notes were intelligible, and I knew just enough to pretend that I didn’t know anything. When he asked if what he just explained was logical, I thought that must have been a test, was it? No one said anything, we made eye contact and I slowly shake my head, no. Look back at what you just wrote, yes, that’s why it doesn’t make sense. There was an error, I don’t know how I know but I just know, don’t ask, no explanation. Gut feeling, or maybe super secret intelligence trying to avoid accountability. Evading visibility.
There she is, Miss Universe. Who? Me? Get out of here. Where have you been? Angels of mercy. My sister’s almost taller than me now, and she’s talking about things I don’t understand. Officially old, trying to catch up with the kids. Those six months might have saved her life, born to be a hospital hostage. She scares me sometimes, but then I remember why. I tried my best, I don’t know how to handle primal wounds. That is outside of my expertise, not that I have any, to be fair.
When does this story end? I’m tired of writing. No one’s holding a gun up to my head but it sure feels like it. If I don’t say it now, it will never be said. I remember envelopes. Handled with care, so organized, so personal. No one’s ever done this to us, we’re tearing up. I have no idea what you’re talking about, yes, someone else would have emailed their lists and told you to deal with it. I see how hard you’re all working. I wouldn’t do that, and I was bored. How long did this take? Don’t worry about that, I’m sorry the envelopes are not colored, I worked with what I had, school supplies. And did I perfume them? No, that’s too far, but sure sounds like something I would do. The lists are printed, cut out, organized into separate envelopes for each section, all you have to do is distribute them. You’re welcome.
Every summer is a new chapter, posing as filler episodes. The beach episode. The search for higher education. The search for meaning. The search for self. The search. Google search. Even you are infected. Can we talk just one on one like we used to do, Without that drone hovering over us? Is this what you meant? No, I meant what I meant and I know what I meant. Leave my search engines alone. *