I. You

An old friend.
He liked me until
I began forming opinions

about pizza.
Soap.

Then politics.

And, X-Factor.
I hated that show.

Because!

He ******* loved it.
Told me, ‘What’s wrong with you?
People just wanna feel good for a while.’

I said it ***** because
it prioritized deliberation
among all facets of performance.

‘You look into it much
more than necessary.’

I looked into everything.
How come you can grow a beard and I can’t?
What was your puberty like?
Did you know lithium-ion batteries degrade overtime?
Keith, don’t charge it beyond 80%. Always stop there.
Then, once a month, charge it to full capacity then

Drain. So it recalibrates.
That’s because batteries have memory.

I look into you.



II. Me

Here’s how to tell a story.
First, gather the facts.

Then,
transmit the feelings of those facts.

We met.
We fell hard.

And as if they’d respond, we
asked the stars what type of connection
they gave us. A pact. An alliance.
A lasting impression? A semblance.

It felt like a love we were free to define. But you
went away, I didn’t come running. Or I lost you
along the way when I hid you in my shirt pocket.
You must have fallen from a hole.

There were words in my pocket, too.
But they were bigger than you. I clung to them and pasted
them onto me like suntan. Scorch, scorch, you *******.

After transmitting the feelings, characters come in,
complaining they deserve better stories.

‘I got it.’ You do got it.

‘I just got in here.’ You’ve been in there for hours, man.

‘Why do I keep wanting you?’ I say the same thing. I don’t mean it.

It ends with an episode of X-Factor.
First, gather the facts.

Then, transmit the feelings of those facts.

But people just want to feel good for a while.