I Don’t Want to be in a Box Beneath the Ground, Please

I have a perpetual fear of being killed in a plane crash. I think about flying weeks, months in advance. I know what the seat¬†will feel like against my back, and I can almost recite American Airline’s safety lecture, down to the part about the buckle. I’ve been having sporadic pains in my heart, often when I’m at my desk at work, and I see the next few minutes in my head, when the pains will become severe and I’ll leap up and shout, but it will be too late for anyone to save me. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and don’t know where or who I am. I think this is a product of not understanding why I was born or what everything is around me, but it’s overwhelming nonetheless. Someone I once cared for very deeply, in the middle of a conversation where I was pointedly saying I wish I could meet someone who made me feel like you did, said,¬†But I never felt like that about you. Last night I drank so much that I don’t remember much of what I said, but in the end it was probably all related to this, as is easy to do with friends. When I talk to people, I mostly watch their mouths, and some people’s mouths are very ugly while some people’s mouths are very nice to look at. Some people, when they see you watching their mouth, will bite their lip, or put up their hand to touch their face, which is nice. I drank coconut water for the first time today in an effort to take better care of my body and stop drinking so much Diet Coke. I really didn’t like it. It was disappointing.

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