BrainStew

I want to eat your brains
stick a straw in and suck it all up.
Ears were made with holes for a reason
and it's the giving season.

I've been drinking

and I've been talking.

I've been drinking

and I haven't been doing a lot of walking.

I've been drinking

so please bear with me.

It's only three AM

But I feel like I've been up all night.

I would be off on a brisk 5 AM walk in my peacoat and moccasins.

But right about now, I'm playing with my kitty cat.

I hope he's smart enough not to want me.

I'm not ready to truly want myself.

I hope he is smart enough to let me walk away from him.

Because he is the most benignantly human being a human can be.

I'm hung up on this whole human thing if you can't tell. Up to the point that I am consciously telling myself that I am a writer and art comes at every moment --whether that be at the botanical gardens experiencing a mutual love for one another and the sunset, lying in bed with a snoring cat while she remains purring, or drunk getting home with a left worker assuming I am off to work instead of going to sleep.

On a Wednesday AM.

I've had it. I mean it. There are many things that are hard to explain and many things even stranger to try and explain to oneself but I am not here, nor am I ready, to explain these things. My soul is not ready. I am no prophet and there is no such thing as rightful jesuitism. Therefore I am not ready to explain the path I am set to take. My should is currently pending. Like a Facebook friend request somewhere between moving forward to uncover a new world and facing the same reflection on a cave.

Mirrors, I can't fucking stand mirrors.

Is it artistic to be human?

My cat is pretty darn human. She is currently in a crisis with our new fridge since it is chrome therefore predominantly shining her reflection every time she tries to warm up by its air vent. Unfortunately, when the freezer door opens, the reflection mimics a punching cat. My cat is having a mild life crisis. And I can't get enough of it.

Does that make me human, or rather odd?

The thing I can't quite wrap my head around is how hoping not to be a burden, you can become the heaviest weight to carry.

I thought about this. I thought about no longer being a burden.

To my mother, to my grandmother, to my sister, to my step mother, to myself, and to the rest of the world.

I thought about it.

And I took a day off to sleep on it. Literally.

I've been asleep for three days but now, I've gone out drinking.

I'm feeling alive, I'm feeling free, I'm feeling the Rekavik vodka and the triple sec in my stomach. It's surprisingly human how we have choices. Granted, animals have choices too but we have a whole system, moral concepts and dictations, that allocate how we are to utilize our choices because of the consequences they bear.

I had the choice to drink tonight, and come home late, and sleep all day, to work all night, to drink and understand why all my chefs do the same. 

I had the choice not to turn off my predictive language for no one, not even myself, to know that I did get a little drunk last night.

I hate mirrors. Because they don't give you the choice to lie to yourself. You see your skin and worse, you see each scar on it because you subconsciously remember how you put it there. You can open your mouth and lie about it. You can call a cut a burn mark, a burn mark a defect, but you can never lie to your mirror as to how pathetic you truly can be.

I believe the mind is a powerful thing. I believe that you can convince yourself into and out of good health. I do not lie to my mirror. I simply tell it a future truth.

He fell asleep when we were talking about the similarities between knives and veins except how one had an extra letter. I sat in silence again and listened to his snoring. I need to buy a new knife set so that when I apply to new positions in kitchens, I can be hired on the spot. The accomplishment of being hired on the spot. It's ironic, it's controversial, it's rather humorous since we are always told to wait. Wait an extra three seconds before making a turn, spending the night, and slitting a throat. My car was totaled because the driver failed to yield, implying they failed to wait an extra three seconds. And yet on the other spectrum of things, he took an extra three seconds to switch to the emoji keyboard and add a blushing smilie face to the end of a two word text. Implying I'm a little more important than I think.

I think.

I asked him if he believed in spirits.

He  answered that to each their own god or empowering deity.

Sure, I said, let's go find god and other deities.

But I think it's time for me to go.