17 August 2009

Dear Pichouette,

As I attempted to cut you out of me, I caught my reflection in the mirror and noticed that all the color had seeped from my skin into a pool of blood on the tile floor. I know how badly it must have stung when I sliced through that first bit of flesh; I felt the same sting.
Now I know that you were never any kind of parasite here to infest me and starve me dead from the inside. You were never any sort of virus here to destroy my body and decay my brain. You were never any type of predator, hungry enemy, here to drag me down and devour me. You were me all along. I have been working all this time on tearing myself limb from limb because it is no longer possible to tell where you end and I begin. If I stitch it up now, I know it will scar, but I think that will be easier than killing us both. I don't care how bad it looks. I just want it to heal.
I am so sorry.

Dear Customers,

I am sorry that none of you are able to accept "I don't know" as an answer. I am sorry that my best is not satisfactory because I am new and there's no one around to help and you don't get that or remember what that kind of frustration feels like.
I am sorry that my manager is an ignorant fuck-up, and after nearly a month of working here, the only things that I have been sufficiently trained in are bagging ice and cleaning the parking lot with a broom and a bucket of water, neither of which will help me resolve your issues.
I am sorry that this obviously false smile is becoming increasingly difficult to force, and when I say, "Have a nice day!" what I actually mean is "Burn in Hell!"
It would probably be best if you reported all further concerns to someone who gives a fuck and just left me alone.
Thanks. Have a nice day!

Dear Nobody at All,

I just kind of wish someone would need me.
Even a little bit.

I guess maybe what I'm trying to say is that I need someone because I'm alone and it hurts, but I'm currently chained to this spot by some heavy pride. I don't want to say it out loud. I don't want anyone to know that I'm disappointed in the people who can usually make my day, for fear of offending them and making them leave me even more alone.

So I'm just here, by myself & not really okay & not really able to put my finger on why but definitely making things worse, just like I love to do.