Dirty

(They're so tall. I wonder what might be living under the pile of dirty dishes in the sink. Perhaps a small insect has taken up residence in the hollow of a cup. If so, I shall name him Bob, unless it's a roach. In that case, I'll name him BFB. And scream, and hunt him down with a slipper until he is a flattened mass of green slime on the carpet.)

(They smell faintly of yeast. Surely the amoebic reaction has taken place over the last two days already, and if I could bake a delicious loaf of bread out of dirty dishes, I would. The water in which they sit has small islands of floating food, probably still edible to bugs.)

(I know if I cave in to the dirtiness and wash them, he won't even notice that the dirty dishes magically disappeared and continue on his ridiculous cycle of use use use. I must teach him that if he uses up all the clean spoons, he will have to wash some or he'll have nothing to eat his ice cream with. So I can put up with the dirtiness, because this is a lesson that must be drilled into his skull, because he forgets that it might be a courtesy to his housemate to clean up after himself. Yes, it's a chore, and if you are a bad boy and don't do your chores, you do not get your dessert.)

The Mother-in-Law

(I've always had difficulty relating to my mother in law. She's keen on drama, and this is not my forte. It's always all or nothing with her, and she has this knack of putting her foot in her mouth. I dread the holidays with my husband's family, because their favorite thing to do then is bicker. Whenever someone starts to fight around me, I just clam up. I'd rather not participate in the drama that always ensues between her, her daughter, and my husband who always tries to mediate between the two.)

(She's had a trail of ex-husbands, which doesn't surprise me because for her, marriage meant a greencard. Her current boyfriend has apparently slept with her best friend, and because of this, she locked herself in her bathroom and slashed her wrists with a dull serrated knife. I just saw the scars over the Easter holiday, which she probably didn't want me to. In a weird way, I want to talk to her about it, but on the other hand, do I want her to know that I know what she doesn't want anyone to know?)

(I talked to him about it, and of course he's worried. I'm wondering how I would feel in her position. Although, I really wouldn't know how I would react without having this actually happen. I'd probably be more mad than sad. I'd probably be more inclined to hurt someone else than myself.)

(I wish I could tell my own mother about this, but I don't know what good that would do. It would make my husband feel awkward and angry, most likely, and not really do any good besides her praying for my mother-in-law. I can't get this image out of my head, and to be honest, it makes me very upset. How could she feel so inclined as to leave the world when she loves her granddaughter so much?)

Pondering

With the economy the way it is, and my inability to find steady work, I'm seriously debating moving back to my home state when my unemployment runs out. My husband loves that idea . I have this fantasy of helping out my aging parents (mom's 68, dad's 71) and fixing up my deceased grandmother's house. I fantasize about the piano in my grandmother's house, and how dusty it must be right now. God, I wish I could play a piano right now. I go through my old piano music and try to play it on the flute, which is interesting when I have to transpose. I can do it, but I am rusty like the garden gate.

I grew up in the state with the biggest sky of all, where the yellow grass and gray sage under the blue sky seem so empty. I miss the winters there, with all the snow and the inconvenience it makes. I miss hanging out with my family, sipping hot chai and eating cookies with my mum. It's been almost five years since we left, which is a ridiculously long time not to visit your family. True, we've been pretty broke, and our cars right now wouldn't make the trip. Airflight is not really an option, it's so expensive. Buses are inconvenient.

In a way, I wish we had never moved out here. I had a good job back home, and since leaving, I've had a string of crappy jobs, barely above minimum wage. I stuck it out at a coffeeshop and cafe for two years, putting up with inexperienced teenagers, and trying not to provoke my manager who seemed to have permanent PMS. I hope they realize how good an employee I was now that I am gone. I wonder what the manager said to the owner to get her to the point of saying, "It's your job or mine, and I have a mortgage." Is a mortgage really that much different from rent? If I don't pay it, then I'll be evicted, just like you would have been if it had been you. Actually, I think it should have been you, because I've heard you say all sorts of things which were inappropriate to employees and to customers. Does Kathy the Iced Mochaccino lady, breve and with lots of ice, really want to know that you're having "Fucking Awesome Day"? Did Vanessa really need to hear you say, "You sure picked a great time to quit," when she's had a family member pass away in another country? Did I really need to hear that I was "Being bitchy" when I hadn't had a chance to eat my lunch yet, and had been working for six hours? Did I really need to hear from you that being unemployed and desperate for money over Christmas would be nice, since I'd get to spend all that time with my family? I'm sure you've had many more customer complaints than I have because, sadly, deep down, you hate your job, and are unable to say it out loud.

So now that I've gotten all that off my chest, I feel a little better. It's a little ironic that I'm living in a city with not a lot of jobs, and a lot of crime, and way too many retirees. It's not the sort of place that I imagined for myself. It's not the sort of place that I want to stay in permanently.

Now What?

I have had a lot of free time lately, and have taken advantage of it with all sorts of things. I have played videogames, baked cookies, and had all sorts of adventures, some of which were more successful than others.

Actually, I've beaten a lot of videogames over the past few months. Some of them were quite good, and some of them left me scratching my head, thinking: "Now why did I just spend all that time on this?" I played too many RPG's, and those take their sweet time.

And I am officially caught up on all the sleep that I lost over the past two years of working in a coffeeshop. I am in no way a morning person, but I tried my hardest to suck it up and get the job done. Today I rolled blissfully out of bed at 11:20 a.m. I feel bad for my replacement...

All in all, it could be worse.

Present time, present day?

Raindrops in the snow…

Falling fast, falling slow

Softly kissing wind.

Yes, aspirations are funny today. Funny in the way that things automatically get done, by unseen mechanical hands…whoosh, there goes the dust, the dirt, the grime that I long for in a city. Every girl has to start somewhere in this city—which incidentally, is the only city I’ve ever known—and so start I have. Today I have been alone and free. I’ve also been growing hungrier and hungrier, and though I do not regret leaving the security of my cage, the cramps in my stomach make me regret leaving the regular mealtimes. There’s nothing edible here. I’ve no idea what will happen to me today, but I still want to live and eat like any other girl. I’ve seen other children playing, but they seem afraid of me. They all look the same to me. I aspired to be free like them, but I guess they are no freer than I was. The air in this place tastes stale, like thousands of people have breathed it in before me. It tastes like my cell after yet another sleepless night.

The bright orange sky is clear today. No clouds drift over the dome, over the towers of the city, and over the narrow alleys that twist and wind between the monoliths of Man. If I wander too far, I’ll get lost…and then I’ll probably get caught by the authorities and I’ll be right back where I started… Everything looks the same. There are no markings to tell one road from the other, and the buildings loom around me like cement clones.

If I stay here too long, I might get caught…what do I do?

I walk. I try to go straight. If I turn left, then I next turn right, and then left again. I walk for a long, long time. Eventually I turn into an alley that looks different. A long, lone scribble has been painted onto the cement wall, slightly taller than I can reach. It ends halfway between three whole bricks, but I like that it is there. Finally…something looks different. The colors are so bright in the scribble. I wonder if it’s a word, but it’s so sloppy that I can’t really tell if it says anything. “Why?” I wonder aloud.

I sit across from it. My feet hurt from so much walking. My stomach hurts, too. I’m finally free, though…and I’ll never have to take another test again. Just the thought makes me feel giddy and lightheaded. From now on, my life will be different. A little rest will restore my strength, and then I’ll keep going. Maybe I’ll even get to go Outside, if I walk far enough.

Another kid walks into the alley. He doesn’t look like the other kids that I saw earlier today. His clothes are dirty, even though there’s nothing here for him to get dirty with. The stones under me are so smooth and polished, by the same invisible hands that cleaned everything in this place.

He sits down next to me. “Did you cut class too?” he asks, thinking that I was like any other child his age. I make a noncommittal grunt, but he acts like I said yes. “They just kicked me out of the arcade, those morons. I’m going to sneak back in there in a while. Want to come with me?”

“Sure…but…”

“They won’t catch us for a long time if we hide out in one of the sim rooms. My name’s Zak. What’s yours?”

Crap…my name…well, I guess xenothonic hyper-intelligent alien stands for…”Xhia. I’m Xhia.”

“That’s kind of a weird name…but don’t worry. I’m not like the kids who’ll beat you up for being different.” He’s got a genuine smile…perhaps he can help me.

“Zak, I’m really hungry. Do you have any food?” I try my best to look even more pathetic than I probably do.

“Uh, no…but we can go to the server and get some.”

If I go to a public place with him, I’ll surely get caught. My image is probably all over the news by now. “Is it okay if I stay here?”

“There won’t be anyone there to catch us. I always use the red-district server when I cut class. The adults there could care less about kids running away from class. If we make a mess in the alley, then the Maintenance will be on us.”

“I see…” The kid was smarter than he looked. He knew how not to get caught.

“Is this the first time you’ve ever cut class, Xh…Xhi?” I make another noncommittal noise, which he also takes for a yes. “Just great. Don’t think I’ll go easy on you because this is your first time. I’m not that kind of guy.”

“Sorry. You don’t have to hang out with me if you don’t want to.” I’ll be okay without him. I’ve been alone for a long time…one less person who’ll eventually hurt me won’t make me lose any sleep.

“Hey, I never said that. Let’s go get some food, X. I’m going to call you X, because your name is unpronounceable…okay?”

“All right; I don’t mind.”

………………………………………………………………………..

“I’m sorry, Doctor. There has been no sign of the subject. We have patrolled the entire green district, but it must be laying low and hiding somewhere.”

“That’s all that you have to say to me? ‘Sorry, we couldn’t find it. It’s very intelligent.’ Keep searching and searching until you find it. Do you understand how much trouble we’re in? We will be out of our jobs if we don’t find it before the Security does, which they will if we waste our time.” Doctor Smith was ordinarily a calm and patient man, but unusual circumstances brought out the worst in him.

“How should I proceed, doctor?” The lab assistant was very tense and somewhat intelligent, which made him sufficient enough to handle practically everything inside the lab, but the outside world was a different matter. The little man quivered as though he faced Death itself.

“Where to look…if I were an intelligent creature on the loose, looking to blend in, I would go to where other creatures of my type were and try to not do anything too suspicious until we give up on looking for it. Now, it resembles an ordinary child at this stage of its evolution. It will be with other children. It will try to blend in…perhaps it already has.”

“There are only three schools in this area. My daughter goes to the northernmost…”

“It’s not likely to become violent in any way. Your daughter may be able to tell us if anyone unusual showed up today in her class, which leaves the other two schools to look into. I’d hurry if I were you, Bob.”

………………………………………………………………………….

“So this is an arcade?” I whisper. The underground halls had a distinct metallic flavor, and were so dark that I kept bumping into the boy. He’d stop by every passage, listening intently for Them. If he got caught again in the same day, he’d be reported to all schools and identified as a third tier student, which was really bad…or so he said. I suppose it would have been like being demoted to janitorial duty for poor Bob back at the lab. Zak got the same kind of shudder when he even mentioned it.

“Your parents must be very strict, not even letting you go to the arcade…”

“They are very strict,” I said, since it seemed the right thing to say and it was more or less true. Just don’t ask me what their names are, Zak.

“Okay, we’re in…this is going to be awesome! What do you want to simulate, X?”

“I’ve never been here before, remember? I don’t know anything about this place.”

“Well…how about we do some team game? I know…” Zak enters codes into the panel on the wall, which is the only object I see in the room besides the door. Whatever he did made the room transform from a dark brown to a sandy desert, with weird plants poking out of the ground. Enormous metal objects sprawled across the ground. Zak grabbed my hand and pulled me along. “This game is old. That’s why the graphics aren’t so realistic, but it’s still fun…and it doesn’t suck a lot of power out of the system. If this were like Wing Command or something else really new, it would actually smell like a desert, and you kick up sand into the air and feel the wind blowing. They don’t make it hot like a desert, though…” He scrambles up the side of the craft and opens it. “Come on, X. We’re going flying.”

I find the handholds that take me up the metal beast, and sit in the chair next to Zak. “Do I need to do anything?” I ask, and feel relieved when he shakes his head.

“Not unless you want to. This is a historical game of the first battle against the Flyers. It’s pretty easy, actually. This is an exact replica of the galactic Cruiser that Major Bryant flew…except for the smell. Have you learned about that in school yet?”

“Not yet…”

“I guess the different schools follow their own schedules. Anyway, I can just imagine how huge Bryant was, because the game always loads up with the chair in the exact setting that he would use, and I always have to adjust it. I should adjust your seat, too.” He leans very close and reaches for a knob just behind my feet, his face flushing, and glides my seat forward with his other hand. “Is that okay? Does the throttle feel too far away?”

He points to the stick at my right hand. “It’s fine.”

“Better be sure, because once I start the game, I’m not going to hit pause until it’s over, X. I don’t like to stop in the middle of things.”

“Well…” I hold the throttle a moment, playing around with it, and then try to adjust my seat.

“Give it a little twist.”

“All right, I’m ready.”

“There’s one more thing we need to do before I can start, and you’d better watch because I won’t do it for you.” Zak reaches up for what seems to be a harness and draws it down over his body, locking it in place in the hole in the seat between his legs. “I’m a little rusty with this game, so I might crash a couple times before I get us up.” I reach for my own harness and fumble with it for a little while before I figure out how to lock it in place. Zak starts the ship, and it rumbles up cautiously into the orange sky.

I do what is normal when you achieve your first sonic boom. I throw up.

"Ugh...let me out of the chair..."

All that delicious food, gone to waste. Such a shame. Sadly, I clean it up off the floor.

"Let's play something without vertigo, X. That was gross."

"Agreed."

"Let's see...how I hack it from within again..."

Zak fiddles around with the chairs, and after a few moments, the power comes on. The screen turns a hazy purple, and a logo appears. It says, “CUBE.” All you have to do is watch for awhile,” says Zak. In the purple haze, a small blue marble appears next. It grows steadily larger until they realize that it is a distant planet, and with a boom, the feel the vertigo of our shaking chairs as they hurtle towards it. The sun behind the planet briefly blinds us right before we hit atmosphere, and gaspingly cold wind is simulated by a strong gust from the vents surrounding the screen. Right before we hit the planet’s blue ocean, the room turns a pitch black. It stays black for an eternity, before another logo appears. This one says, “Eternal Fantasy.”

(The girl felt like she was entering a dream. Things and places she could never have imagined, and people so beautiful it was almost painful, that she found herself blinking back tears.)

A question pops up at last: “Are you ready?”

Zak chooses for both of them. “Yes.”

"Choose your fate, travelers.”

He chooses his character quickly. He’s played this game many times before. I don’t even know how to work the controls, so he tells me to press the arrow keys a few times, and then hit the button marked as “X.” His character is a young radiant man. My character looks like an old cranky man.

"Name yourselves!”

“Huh, I guess I could’ve loaded up my old character,” says Zak. “My name is Newblet!”

“XHIA” is the name that I choose.

The forest leaves rustle around us. A silver moon leanly peeks through the sky. “There’s a monster close by,” says Zak. “These are our weapons.” His character hands mine a wooden club that was on the ground.

“This is the first world,” says the mystery voice. I look around, but I can’t see whose voice it is. “It is dangerous here. There is much evil in the Black. Be careful, travelers, or we shall not meet again.”

“You chose a really difficult character to begin with,” says Zak. “If you get hurt too bad, just press run…it’s the forward arrow.” The rustling stops. Something nearby growls and my character gets knocked over by a big furry thing with lots of teeth. “HUNGRY!” it says. Like any beginner, I hit all the buttons at once, hoping to find one that will take care of this furry devil.

“Whoops! Crap, that thing’s level 10! That can’t be right!” Our attacks against the monster are pretty useless. Health points plummet towards zero. “Sorry about this, but I’ll be right back!” says Zak. Right before the my character dies, I hear the voice again. “The gift of the earth is yours! Use it fast!” One button on her massive controller glows brighter than the rest, so she presses it. A rock slams into the side of the beast, and it runs away yelping.

A young woman appears where Zak’s previous character had been. “Hey, where did the monster go?” he asked in disbelief.

"It ran away.”

“You’re kidding! You were almost dead!”

“My health is going up again. Why did you run away?”

“This character is level 15, and a fire warrior. You have a level 1 earth mage. Those are really hard to play for a beginner; you should really try something else.”

“This is okay. I don’t mind if it’s hard.” I puzzle over what he had said for a minute. “What is ‘earth'?"


“You have the powers of land.”

Shrug. “I don’t get it, but let’s play some more!” We kill some more monsters, and it's just starting to get repetitive when Zak gets up.

"Well, I've had enough for awhile. If I don't get home soon, my mom will worry and call the school. It's been fun." He starts towards the exit.

"Wait! Um, I mean..."

"What is it? I've got to get going soon."

I have to come up with a good lie, and quick. Something believable. My parents are dead. I was kidnapped. I ran away. The feds are out to get me. I'm an abandoned child. Science is out to get me. I have nowhere to go. I'm getting hungry again. My racing mind is useless, so I go with the easiest explanation. "I ran away from home. I don't want to go back. Can I come with you?" It all comes out so easily. It could almost be the truth, except that I don't really have a home.

"Um, it's really up to my mom. I don't care if you come with me, but if she says No, she means No. Why did you run away?"

"They hurt me a lot. I thought I was going to die." At least that part of my story was true. Carefully I rolled up my sleeves, trying not to rip up the scabs. His eyes widened when he saw the raw flesh, and I knew that he had no choice but to believe me. I put my sleeves back down, gritting my teeth and going slow.

"You're going to have awesome scars from that. Did they hurt you anywhere else?"

"They did it to my legs, too, but that was awhile ago. At least my arms will match my legs soon." I used to cry when it hurt, but it didn't occur to me to cry over the scars as well. As the pain faded away from my body, I accepted that someday, somehow, I would free myself from that uncertain agony.

"You should show that to my mom. She works for the military, and she could get them arrested for that."

Oh no. That sinking feeling returned. "Thank you," I said, trying not to feel that I was in deep trouble yet again.

.......................................................................

His mother was a lot younger than I thought she would be. She seemed too tired to really pay attention to what her son was saying. So there was a houseguest? Great, as long as you guys are quiet and stay in your room. I don't even think that she realized that I was a girl. I had my hood pulled over my head, hoping that it would help me keep from being recognized. Zak grabbed some food out of the repmat, and we went into his tiny little room. He had a bed, a desk, and a uniform hanging up, and that was pretty much it. Enormous metal pipes ran through the ceiling and the walls, and one even through the middle of the room. "Don't hit your head on that thing. I'm almost used to it now. My room used to be the closet, and that's why it's so weird. I like it though. I can pretty much do whatever I want in here." He tosses his homework on the desk, and stretches out on the bed. I stand there a few minutes, absorbing all of it.

"I even have an entertainment unit. It's really small, and the sound isn't great, but I can pick up a few shows when I set it on that pipe in the middle. It's like a huge antennae. I don't have any games, though. My mom doesn't like them. Do you want to watch something?"

"Um, maybe later." I smile at him. He's trying to be nice, in an awkward boyish way. "Do you think I could try to wash my arms? They're really itchy." Carefully I take off my outershirt, trying not to peel off the scabs at the same time. I notice that Zak's turning slightly red, but I haven't a clue what about.

"Um, the bathroom's this way. Do you need bandages or anything? I have antiseptic in my room, but I have to get bandages from my mom." He doesn't look directly at me. I think he's embarrassed.

"I might. It's really hard to sleep and not bleed at the same time. Thank you so much. I..." The relief I feel at having a safe refuge is really hard to describe, much less to express.

"Hey, no problem. I just hope that the bastards who did that will pay someday for it."

Not again. I excuse myself to the bathroom. There's no sign of his mother; she must be sleeping somewhere. I look around, and don't really know what does what, but I do recognize the shower. It probably would be the easiest way for me to get cleaned up, so I disrobe and hop in. The warm water washes down most of my loose scabs, and gently I soap up. I hear the door open once; it's his mother. "Don't mind me, Zak. I'll be out in a second. You haven't seen my keys, have you?"

I do my best imitation of his squeaky voice. "No."

Sigh....where did they go.....she mutters as she leaves the bathroom. I hear chaotic sounds in the other room, then the cry of victory. "I'm off to work, boys. Have fun, and do your homework, Zak. If your grades fall any further, there will be consequences."

"Bye!" I yell. She's still talking to me. I doubt that Zak can hear her. I dry myself off, and put on the smaller of the two robes hanging up near the shower door.

........................................................................................

Somewhere in a small arcade, a cleaning machine sucked all the DNA from a girl's vomit up and sent it to waste tracking and reclamation. A red light started to blink in a lab somewhere, and then the call went out. They knew she had been there, and were hoping to find her, but she was long gone.

........................................................................................

Five years pass since that very day, and he still has to be the one flying the ship.

“You’re quiet tonight. What’s up, Z? Something happen?” I can't see his face. He's somewhere up there, in the cockpit, but I can tell when he's upset. He's my 'brother', after all.

“I met a girl last week…” His voice trails off, lost amid the whirrs and beeps of the ship.

“Another girl…" It doesn't surprise me anymore. I remember the first girl that broke his heart. I know just what to say by now, too. "Don’t worry, you’ll move on before you know it to the next one. There's lots of girls.”

“Hey, I actually like this one. This might be The One, X, and you’re cracking jokes about my love-life? Thanks. But…the only thing that bothers me is that she’s a little weird in the head.”

“Hey, who isn’t a little weird in there these days?" Everyone I've met has had battle scars in some way or another in this world. It doesn't matter if they're male or female, young or old, they are all the same.

“Why do I always fall for the weird ones?” He sighs impetuously, not really expecting me to answer this rhetorical question.

“Well, you’ve never fallen for me, and I probably am the weirdest girl in the fleet.”

“…She’s nothing like you, X. She’s got the jiggle where it counts and red fire hair…everywhere...”

“Whatever. We’ve got five minutes before we get to the rendezvous, so you better get it out of your system before then. Why are you thinking about her now?”

“She got weird a couple of days ago, when I told her I was a pilot. You have no idea how hard it is to get it up when you’ve got a girl crying and begging you not to go the next day… What did she say? “You’re going to die out there!?” What a turnoff.”

“Wow. I’ve no idea about that. I've no experience with it, you know." I think for a minute. I want to see his face, because I can just tell by looking at him what to say. It stinks that we are stuck in this ship right now, and our only connection is through our headphones. "You shouldn’t tell girls you’re a pilot. It’s like saying, ‘Let’s not plan for tomorrow just yet, because I work in the most dangerous profession on the planet.’ You should tell them you’re a dentist or something nice and safe like that. Or a doctor, or a lawyer. Or a retired pilot.”

“Can’t do it, X. I’ve got too many scars to play dentist, and I hate lying."

“Just drop her then. I'm on standby now. They’re about to make the jump.”

--All hands, brace for impact—

“You always know exactly when—do you have any idea how creepy that is?”

“Sorry. Can’t help myself.”

“And that’s why you’re the weirdest one of all.”

“Try to keep up this time, Zak. I’d hate to have to scrape you off the windshield when we get back home.” Home…whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean these days. Our bunker isn't nearly a luxury suite. It's dirty, dark, damp most of the time, and though all my scars don't really stand out among all the scars that the guys have, my body does. I take my showers early, before the rest of the guys roll out of bed. It's just easier than listening to them make asses of themselves. I have no desire to get to know any of them. They're lunatics for the most part, and so aggressive whether it's in combat or waiting in line for their lunch. I remind myself that this is only for a short time, and that I have the best pilot any shooter could want.

Zak and I have never had an easy friendship. He's seen how weak I can be, and how stupidly stubborn I am, too. However, he's stuck by me no matter what, and for that alone, I love him so much. He adopted me in, even after he learned the truth, and has helped protect me for so long. He is the closest thing to family that I have in this world.

The pressure hits us hard, just like every other time. I want to puke, but I keep it down. They say that you get over the queasiness with time…that eventually, every soldier will acclimate to whatever environment they are put in. I’ve had time, but I still want to puke. I hold it down, and the vortex sucks us through to the other side.

“You see them?” I ask. My data screens are still loading up after the Jump. All I can see is the tiny ray of light through my peephole in the back of the plane. They buzz on, and I am overwhelmed by the ambush awaiting us. God has unleashed the swarm of locusts on us.

“Flyers are everywhere, dammit! Who the hell decides these coordinates? Starting detach ASAP.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Three switches later, the magnetic latch loses its tension and we freefall into the midst of the enemy, then past them. Being the backup pilot, I see them rise higher while Zak gets to see the ground come closer. The engines fire up and we climb back up. “Find me a good spot, Zak. My fingers are itchy.”

“Get ready back there, X.”

Beauty

The beauty of conversation is what draws people together. It grips us all. We vibrate on the same chord, and share the same truths deep within. Creature of habit that I am, and odd though it may seem, I want to write "Baby, what we had is real!" The pixels, damn them, deceive me, but the beauty of the words will live on somewhere in memory.

Non Compos Mentis. I am who I am, even though I may break at times, I will continue to be me.

Your love is better than any alien abduction. I shall be here, no matter what, throughout the uncertain future. Gravity weighs heavily on me, and I feel once more gravid. The memories fade a little more each day. I forget the digital universe. Life is a meditation of eating, drinking, and then the removal of the leftovers, literally. I've had a plethora of time to think, but my mind is very quiet these days.

Is this what contentment feels like?

Frustration

Never without my permission, are the words that LeLu spoke. And so, that is how I learned not to borrow clothes from my sister Helen. They were too big for me, anyways. I deleted it from my memory. I've deleted many things over the years, including my memory of my father. I do remember my mother and my brother, though he is nuts. My art is still all that I have to release this odd tension in me. I draw, I paint, and I scratch images into a pile of cheese at work. It's a silly pastime. I'd like to retire from it, but first I'd have to succeed at it. All the doubt and the self-preservation in the world would be for nothing if not for those three little words. I wonder what he thinks about it, too.

Anyways, here is an image to boggle my mind. It seems appropriate for the moment.