I am not ok. I don’t even want to be. To be ok right now would require a loss of my humanity that I am not prepared to lose. Holding opposites together, I can only do so much. Avoid harm. Don’t make it worse. Ride the wave. Acknowledge that none of this is ok.
And one day, other things will be.
To Turn Off the Flash
Everything, lately, is a memory. Sometimes the whole memory is a feeling. Hurt. Anger. Sadness. Fear. I am not alone. I want to be. I have no space to be unseen. I want to go. I am trying to hide and I cannot. That is the feeling. That is the panic.
Pretty soon, I get to leave New York behind.
Backward to Forward
Counting numbers carefully, sorting set to auto, the brain does what it does. Is this the right amount? How about now? A special kind of back and forth, like flexible division, which means nothing and everything and no, you are not supposed to understand. What happens If something Is left unpunctuated
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