this is a day without much meaning. i am feeling peace for the first time in a lifetime and march is on the horizon and nothing could possibly hurt me now – not when i have already been hurt so many times over again. not when this new decade is bright and shiny.
this is a day without much meaning. our friend does something unforgivable and i have to squeeze my eyes shut so violently as to not let any more tears fall. i promised the others we would drink his memory away tonight and i promised them i would not cry. we are twenty one. we do not know how to handle real betrayal. we do not know how to handle the accusations and lies and earth shattering truth.
this is a day without much meaning. i throw up for two days straight when i see the news or read the emails and i wonder if my cvs bottles are meant to be anchors when we are in the end times. i send nonsense texts to my professor (sorry, peter) and fill my lungs with fake peace and want nothing more than the reassurance no real adult has. we petition to stay on campus for as long as they’ll allow and it is beautiful and relieving and yet, i have never felt so empty walking around this place until now.
this is a day without much meaning. wolfie is leaving for california this afternoon and they are braving the airport soon and my hair is freshly bleached and we are remarking on how blonde it looks in the sunlight today. we are playing i got so high that i saw jesus on repeat and making merciless fun of it all but we’re stoned again, like we are every other useless day, and we’re all thinking it wouldn’t be so bad for some answers, even if it is from a god none of us believe in. yesterday we did cartwheels in the mud and my footprints are still all over the kitchen floor. we ate popsicles and laughed and felt euphoric sunshine and it is like a long-lost childhood memory has just been unearthed and recreated.
this is a day without much meaning. i finish all the writing and the editing and i spend the night staring at the warm glow of my computer screen before i send it off – before i have to accept that college is over and i have to leave now into a world that has never wanted us. it is my old best friend’s twenty second birthday and we drink and scream and forget for just a second that this is fleeting and temporary and will end with heartache. she promises to dye my hair purple one last time before we all leave and i am suddenly feeling it happening now.
this is a day without much meaning. my car is packed up and i still only own one mask because i don’t want to believe this is going on for much longer. i hug the boys and i cry in their arms and i am still only twenty-one. i am barely allowed into the bar and we are inheriting our country’s blood-stained hands all the same.
- run on memories - June 20, 2024