Back and forth.
It starts with counting in threes. Three ice cubes for my coffee. Three steps behind other people. Three soft kisses.
Why do horses need horseshoes?
Open the fridge and close it again. I forgot what I was even looking for. Open it back again. Did it change at all? Close. Open again and pick something. Close.
What if I started making my own butter and bread?
Choose the same everyday shorts. Same everyday shoes. Everyday necklace. Until they get replaced by the new ones when they start falling apart. You have several pairs, but they are for special ocassions. Things need to be used for a specific purpose.
Are sharks smooth or rough skinned? Do they like to be pet?
Avoid eating with others, people who aren't safe. The sounds they make. The way they criticize what you eat. The loud clattering sounds of china and shriek.
What song would play at my funeral? I hope it's a fun one.
Touch every piece of clothing before you even consider putting it against your skin. Is it soft? Artificially so? Does it feel hot?
Put it back on the shelf, go see the pretty one you saw from the other one. No, not that one. It has the weird crease on the shoulder. Same as the sweater on the other shop. Next.
What do other people see as red?
T-rex arms are comfy. So is tapping my fingers together. Drumming on invisible heads, picturing the comfortable tap tap tap they make.
Is there a sound no one has ever made?
Look at the mirror but not at your eyes.
Is my face actually my face?
Stay up all night going through 21 different scenarios. Different songs. Different ways you could change your own life.
... Can I?
Describe Yourself (I’m Still Scared To Use Hinge)
Pretty bitch (when it’s three am and i’m looking at myself in the mirror and my ego is getting the better of me, otherwise i think my face is too ethnic—the ancient aztecs would’ve loved me though—and too white at the same time)
Compulsive—
I compulsively and impulsively do things
(do i have adhd? should probably get tested so people stop asking)
I am staring at my body
At the funhouse mirror in the county fair
All long hair and petite and wide hipped
(some white lady once told me i had ‘mexican hips’ and i should’ve clocked her if she wasn’t so old and i’m still not entirely sure what that means but that’s a weird thing to say to a latin girl when she’s nineteen, no?)
I feel observed,
In public
Like I am constantly being baited into social error
I crave and detest attention
I like to read
(and at night i will gaze upon such nonsense it makes me sick and i begin to hold a personal grudge against Garth Ennis)
I want things I can’t have, (like, i want lemonade but not this lemonade, the lemonade from two summers ago)
Would you still love me if I told you everything wrong with me? If I told you my fixation on religious imagery stems from—
I like to paint
(if i love you i’ll make something in your image and also i can’t really remember when i was eight years old and my favorite color is a green i’ve tried to find my entire life and will probably never be able to see again because it was the center of a lake on a roadtrip through the yukon when i was small)
I’m young and dumb
(but i feel so old it hurts—I blame this ⅖ on the expectations of the religious sect—cult??? jury’s still out—and all the guilt and the violence that came with it and the other ⅗ on bad blood and familial tradition)
Would you still love me if I was a worm?
Would you still love me if I told you I couldn’t sit with my back to doors? Or that if I don’t check behind the shower curtain, I am confident that I will be Psycho-ed? That I can’t stand loud noise in or outdoors? That I am a slut but only of the soul, because I want you to eat my mind or some other dumb shit I might confess on account of a sleep-deprived high?
Would you still love me if I said men scared the living hell out of me? On account of the reception of violence from them since I was just a baby? That I once crashed my bike while trying to get away from catcalling and rode home with gravel stuck to my bleeding knee?
I’m good with animals and small children and my roommate’s cat literally won’t leave me alone
Would you still love me if I told you I hated vulnerability? That if I said I loved you, I’d immediately ask you to take me out back and shoot me? That I feel like I present the illusion of it and so people always tell me everything because I'm just so goddamn trusting? Because all people want to be believed.
(And, like religion, i believe until it makes me sick.)
That,
my favorite songs are Ethel Cain’s unreleased, and AC/DC, and Gaga and just about everything except country (best friend gets in my car and is stunned by the rapid switch from Danzig to Pop Smoke to Dolly)
and every sibilant sound that my mind latches onto
and i also latch onto you
I really like trees and the beach
(please want me,
please like me)
Space Age Bodhisattva
i once read
that if you cut
a ping pong ball in half
tape the halves
over your eyes
and look into light
you'll achieve instant
meditation
so i did that
for a year
24/7
achieving bliss
some bruises
a concussion
a reputation for being
detached
and
when i finally removed them
an appreciation
of the perfectly imperfect
lost and beautiful world
of everyday life
I Look at Trees
I look at trees and think about their births.
I can say to myself by looking at a leaf, “You are an oak,”
or, “You are a Chinese Pistache.”
For this I feel proud, and this quirk is one that gives me a sense of joy that I think others would be impressed with
If I had any friends.
I like to wear socks, and have special categories of them:
the ones that have had their life – but I will wear them, still, on days I think I will get dirty out in the yard;
Then I have the ones who are new from this year – and have the thickest, whitest cotton and I think –
I love you white, soft socks. My feet love you.
I wash my hands a hundred times a day, and I wonder every time I wash my hands: Was there ever a time I didn’t do this? There was, but I can’t remember when.
I don’t like it when people drive fast in neighborhoods:
Watch out for squirrels in the roads
– or birds –
And what if a cat or dog runs out?
Be careful!
I go to bed clean – a bath every night.
I go to bed alone – every night.
I could be your best friend.
I could make you dinner.
We could play a game.
However, I realize now, I will die an old woman with many cats around me –
Lonely in my socks
Lonely, thinking about the trees.
CK Munsell © 05.23.2024 All rights reserved.
Oh look, Puppies!
Hard to see the things that used to be so clear.
Where's my keys?
Where's the dog?
Where's my phone?
Where did my body go?
Where's the beef?
My shape has shifted.
Everything that was "up" is "down"!
My body shifted from large to super size without the fries!
From auburn to gray, boohoo.
Oh look, puppies!
What was I saying?
What was I doing?
Where was I going?
Who was I doing it with?
Don't say that!
Don't say this?
Don't give me that look!
Oh look puppies!
Behind the façade
Why is someone mowing at 7am in the morning???
If that dog barks one more time...!!
I'll kill him if he runs late again
That guy looks dangerous...are my car doors locked?
You asked a polite question and here's my ten minute answer.
Sorry. Sorry. No I really am sorry.
Yes I do feel like it's my fault. Yes all the time. Sorry.
Sorry for saying sorry so much. Also my fault.
He has the bluest eyes - how dreamy...
What did that look mean at the dinner party last week? Is she mad at me? Did she take offence when I said green wasn't my colour. She was wearing a green hat. She probably hates me now.
Private number. Why do people use them? I'm not answering it. Leave a damn message.
Please stop spruiking your health smoothies on Facebook Debra. No one cares. Unfollow.
What's my ex from 10 years up to? Is his new partner prettier than me?
Don't overshare, don't overshare, don't overshare. 'Oh yeah I was at the doctor today for a pap smear'.
What does that look mean? Oh god, he doesn't think this is a date does he? Quick make an excuse and leave.
Why did you invite me over for dinner at five if you aren't serving it until nine-thirty. Get your shit together. No-one wants to eat that late. It's a school night.
Ooh let's send everyone a text, even though I haven't heard from them in two years, because I have a deadline. 'What are you up to these days, Titouan?'
Pancakes for dinner - because I had soup for breakfast and I'm a grownup so I can eat what I want.
Both pegs for each piece of clothing on the washing line must be the same colour if possible - it's not segregation, it's pegregation.
Dad jokes and bad puns
The inability to order a pizza other than Margherita without being disappointed
Pyjamas are the most comfortable clothes and I want to wear them all the time.
Don't surprise me. I hate it. I need to be emotionally and psychologically prepared to even see you, let alone be surprised.
Aggressively introverted. Loves parties
Listens to hypnosis on Spotify to try to solve all my problems. Mainly procrastination, lack of confidence, overthinking, negative self-talk.
Please like me
Nothing to see
The news today, like every day, is all about sacrifice, corruption, murder, and the wrath of human hearts. Can't focus on it though, for my ankles won't stop twitching. My grandmother, like my mother, had to deal with twitching ankles and passed down that responsibility to me. "It means that the weather is about to change”, I can hear both of their voices explaining.
The horrific news ends and the weather forecast begins. "Gloomy and rainy days are coming to an end", says the polite young forecaster. "Thanks man, I already knew that", - I point to my ankles, but the gentleman on the little television doesn't acknowledge my discomfort. Do you think he has a happy life? I ponder. I hate talking to myself, but there's no one better to talk to. The forecaster only wants to talk weather. Do people in Ethiopia or Iran ever see snow? My cat plops on the carpet and shows off her ginger underbelly, demanding I pet it. “You're the smartest gal I know, you know that?”. The cat slowly and deliberately blinks, leaving me suspicious. Maybe you do really speak English? English! What an ugly language to speak. And it's everywhere - I don't know if it ever snows in Iran and Ethiopia, but I bet you they've heard of English. It makes sense that such a disappointing world like this one would pick a language so unpleasant to be the popular one. I hate myself for never having anything important to say.
The handsome man on the news wishes me a happy evening; same time tomorrow then, old friend. Do you think he has a happy life? I turn off the little box and now I can see a reflection peeking out in the black mirror. I look at it deeply, but even after all these years, I can't decide what exactly am I supposed to see. The person on the black TV screen starts massaging their ankles. The same feeling of discomfort brings us together and I remember who I'm looking at. Do you have a happy life? No one answers.