Sunday, June 28, 2009


I sit with my notebook and write down random happenings that were lived through.

A lone duck strolls the sidewalk, and as the car slowly passes, I roll the window down and quack a “hello.” The duck pays me no mind.

Summertime, walking with my babysitter and school friend, I step on a wasp barefoot.

I wake up convinced that were I to have crayons for fingers, an open, empty Crayola box would make for the perfect mitten.

I sit down to pee when it is dark (or when light and lazy) to avoid having to clean up the sprinkle or spray should I happen to miss. I’d feel obliged.

Jumping on a trampoline in my best friend’s back yard, my foot gets caught in the metal coil along the edge and I fall right straight over the edge. I am shaken and grass-stained. She laughs. I laugh…after awhile.

The thoughts come: “I want a blueberry muffin! God damn it! FUCK!”

I’m talking on the phone with a very, very complicated man and I realize clearly that humans draw ignorance from an endless well.

Cicadas sing their rattlesnake hymns. Entranced and listening in surround sound. Like a gnome, I bounce from crescendo to crescendo as if they were toadstools.

After losing my anal virginity, we go to Jack in the Box and pick up breakfast tacos.

My hair is dyed black, but I go to school and walk around with golden patches that I missed.

I climb in bed with my mother and have her reassure me, repeatedly, that neither of us will die in the night.

Staying over at my dad’s, late at night, I listen to my teenage brother talking with his friends. They seem so old and important. Dangerous even.

Not able to bring myself to induce vomiting with my fingers, I swallow syrup of ipecac and vomit. After throwing up in misery for some hours, I decide being fat is better and that I’d never do that again.

I look at my grandfather in the hospital not long after passing away and I say goodbye. I know he knows he’s lucky.

A couple of days after messing around with a drag queen that I neither liked or was attracted to, I run in to him at Walmart. I say a quick “hello” and then dart off, pretending to have a desperate need for the restroom.

I watch “Pippi Longstocking” and wish that I were her.

A fellow daycare kid peeks at me from under the bathroom stall and I immediately kick him away.

I snort cocaine in the restroom of a Taco Bell.

After a few weeks of horseback riding lessons, I am given the biggest horse to ride. Her name is Roxanne. I grow more and more confident with the horses, but remain afraid of the old, female instructor with the leathery face and accusatory eyes.

On vacation in Destin, I am jumping on the bed in my sleep and wake up to my stepfather yelling at me to get down. Disoriented, I fall to the floor.

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