At My Wits’ End

Life is about taking out the trash and calling it trash because you have every reason to.

It wasn't meant to be linear, they say. But the times you tried to make it straight led to problems, and you didn’t have the tools to put any of it to use. You don't put your right shoes on the right feet; you put the left shoes on the left feet. The grey hardened slab will trip you up anyway.

Your clothes are washed, dried, and pressed, but then it rains. My leggings were warm. Then I stepped, and they were wet. I was relieved. I could stop overthinking for a little while. Don't get me wrong; just spend the rest of the day looking down.

Getting clean water is like riding a horse under its belly. I stand in the kitchen; life is simple, yet the filter floats. When you push it down, it dislodges. It is not just your hands getting wet; you flush out the past mistakes and it all floats onto the surface. All of a sudden, you have never done anything right.

Sometimes your head is there and your mind farts. You get things done on a precipice—just like Will Smith in The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air or The Pursuit of Happyness. You pour the warm water and leave the coffee beans on the counter. You thought it would make you alert. It didn't.

It wasn't meant to be linear, they say.

In the manual of life they say, be a tree hugger and get out of bed. Tree huggers are happier when they are outside. Just not me. Just not you.

When abusive words growl and give you vampire fangs, just make circular motions over your temple. The migraine will soon arrive. If the sting is too much, just remember you can stick French fries up your nose. Do you remember the filter? You can always pour more water over their heads.

That's right. 2 + 2 = 5. Let us keep it that way, because for once, we need something right, and that which doesn’t change.

If you are sick of your roommates, just remember: your teeth are fine. Theirs are not.

The bills, my god, the bills. The electric bill sits on the counter like a coaster. You put it away when you're asleep.

GET MORE SLEEP.

(Sorry, I didn't mean to shout.)

It wasn't meant to be linear. I've seen some scary things in my lifetime.

"How old are you?"

"29."

Scary things, like I was saying. She told me I needed to make money to stay in her home. Yet my dad wasn't there and it wasn't their fault. But then my ambition started to dwindle like a nightfall. The ideas were aliens going out of space. The money was glue because it would belong to her. The walls mocked me with peeling paint so I did nothing.

When someone changes your reality with their version of the truth, you go numb, hollow, and cold. That brain sloth is a lofty bill to pay; it lets out a low, wet thrum-gurgle in the back of your skull. You think you are dumb, or slow, or broken. You don't know what is real, or if you were the abusive one.

You see weapons in pencils, needles and thread and you can’t believe that you are the host of these thoughts. You think: Am I a danger to them? A danger to myself?

Sometimes the abused becomes the abuser, and the abuse becomes the slogan that you reach for, when time is running out and you aren’t getting any younger and security is tangling not like a carrot but like a choice. More times than not, it wasn't you. It was them. It became you too.

Your skin burns. Your mind bakes. While they get out of the fire, they frustrate you even more. Then their reality becomes yours. And your reality? Did you ever have one?

You go back to the drawing board thinking you chose the wrong career, the wrong decision. But the paths are many, and even if you picked one they all lead to a lack of security. Living with roommates, never having access to the kitchen, and having to take care of your hygiene needs, are never at your convenience.

They didn't hurt you. It was your fault. You've got no evidence.

Stuffed animals are the kings of the jungle. We buy them from stores because they don't come with a bite; we use them to comfort ourselves because we are afraid of the real beasts. We buy what is still at the tills and crave what is bite-sized, but the real mountains are why we climb.

Run as far as you can. You can't get away from life and life can't get away from you. When life closes its eyes around you, be that peek-a-boo. It is the only way to remember the times when laughter meant you were already arriving at a better day. That better day is today.