Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Batter The Devil You Know

An Open Letter to Whomever Is In Charge.

Dear Sir/

Why can't I sit in the tub all day, sipping cake batter from a bowl and listening to Ray Parker Jr albums? At least I know exactly what to expect. I want to save the world like I set out to do so many years ago. When I was lithe and sinewey.  Invincible and open.  Now I feel weighted and heavy. My thoughts morose and brooding.  Misanthropy is my addiction.
I woke up this morning, with a sharp pain in my soul
But I'm so used to swallowing my fear at this point I just laid there and
waited for it to pass
But it didn't so I
reached for the Alka Seltzer to ease the pain.
I tapped the remote to illuminate the room with false light
the television filled the room with tales of local gunshot victims
retail deals and fluff pieces about some fucking alligator that wears a snuggie.
After cleaning my ears with a q-tip bigger than my elbow, suddently I could hear
my ID whispering to me. She said, "Recess darling. Go've got a little bit of time. Go."

"tick tock...tick still haven't made it...tick tock...looks like you'll have to settle for 5 and Under...tick...of course this red velvet pancake is fat free.... tock...twitter....tick....featured extra....tick tock...too old...too young...too fat....not fat enough...who is she?...where's your reel....who's your, your theatrical agent...tick tock...your mother had children at 35...tick know your college loan won't pay itself...tick...AIDS testing...'s the first of the month...tick tock...who cares? stay in the house....shower? why bother?...tick...420... tock mother of 4 killed with a knife...tick tock...Young and the Restless is so awful, Sharon is an idiot...tick is ringing, but can't answer...tick tock...hey it's 5pm somewhere...tick tock....twitter...tick tock...mail....tick tock...
If I had enough gas money, I'd drive to the crossroads like my man and wait for the devil to come and get me.
Slow lean.
Cotton Mouth.
And then...nothing.
I like it when it's like this. You can hear a mouse piss on cotton. Then I see a glimpse of me. There I am...happy, then she disappears like Magic Art.
My ID is like a warden and she's allowed enough time in the play yard. Gently she nudges and says "Alright little girl.  You've had quite enough. Back to Life with you."
No I say defiantly. I'm staying right here.
My ID squints her eyes and puts her hand on her hip.
"Put down the cake batter, and go serve the world."
I want to save the world! Not serve it!
She yells and tells me semantics won't save me from my own bullshit. It's okay to be sad, but I can't stay there forever.
But I tell her I'm afraid.
I tell her, I've already failed.
I tell her, they're going to forget me, so I want to beat them to the punch.
I don't know how to sort my life out!
She giggles, cocks her head and says "Oh stop being so dramatic. Everything will be alright."
Okay, deep breath. She's right.
Right. Write. Write. Write. Write.


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