Jun 2021
i biked there all morning
i can see her gym pants hanging in the veranda. she still wears it even though its been years since high school.
there are thunder clouds in the sky. the day is beginning to erupt.
so am i. i've been waiting for an hour.
her inbox is littered with "wake up's". i typed down each letter of the alphabet in her chat after that got boring. when i ran out of letters i resorted to numbers.
I WONT RUN OUT OF THOSE ONES NOW EH? I'LL BE WAITING HERE FOREVER YOU HAG. send
1
2
3
4
5
my left leg is cramping
6
7
8
9
...
my right leg is cramping
..
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69, god i wish i were doing that to you rn
70.
i stopped and stared for a moment. the weather looks grim. i light a cigarette.
it tasted like sweat. so much sweat for so many people, and she was last on the list.
seven days ago i had perfected a kimchi recipe. it had my blood, sweat, and tears on it, mainly due to me handling hot chili powder.
it was the first thing i could taste for weeks then.
sure it was tangy and spicy and had a resemblance to boiled cardboard, but it tasted like triumph.
but i couldn't eat two liters of those so i packed it and gave it away. one to a friend, two to a friend, one to some other friend.
and one to her.
let them taste triumph. let them know that success is sour and hot and somewhat boring.
let them know that i am still alive and has a clean kitchen and functioning legs and a functioning cell phone.
let her know that i am okay
but i didn't know why i wanted her to know that
she didn't care. so should i likewise. why care about caring for someone who won't care back
i took a drag. i sigh. i remember why
"care. everyone should care. because everyone does in the end."
she said that, not me.
i reach a breaking point. i close my eyes
i imagine her with another man. he's taller by another inch, his hair is waxed, he's in the same university and the same sidewalk and the same elbows as the one i liked.
i imagine her crying. she's always crying. she has him come closely with a drink in hand and paper towels.
i imagine the scene in the pulpit stairs where they pose for pictures, her in her perfect white gown with flowers in her hair, him in his candlestick head and soot black italian suit. and me in the back of the crowd, with rotten cabbage in my backpack and sweat in my shoulders.
i throw the ****** kimchi at her veranda. let her pants know what triumph tastes like, for all i care.
i run from her street, leaving my poor bike as witness. i run and run and run and run until my legs tear off and my arms fly away. i run away from some ****** past and all those ****** choices. i run until i'm dead. i have never felt so alive.
...
i open my eyes. the sun shines.
...
14321.
i mount my bike. i let plan b know that i am coming to her house. she's also not awake.
pedal pedal pedal. god i feel so weak. i am the strongest man in these streets.
...
i arrive at north. her windows are barred.
WAKEUP WAKEUP WAKEUP WAKEIP WAKUEP send
...
...
1
2
3
4
oh hey good morning. how long have you been waiting? you biked all the way?
i met her a few months ago. her hair is pretty. i know i'm going to ***** this one up too.
she was right with that quote.
.
.
.
i can see her gym pants hanging in the veranda. she still wears it even though its been years since high school.
there are thunder clouds in the sky. the day is beginning to erupt.
so am i. i've been waiting for an hour.
her inbox is littered with "wake up's". i typed down each letter of the alphabet in her chat after that got boring. when i ran out of letters i resorted to numbers.
I WONT RUN OUT OF THOSE ONES NOW EH? I'LL BE WAITING HERE FOREVER YOU HAG. send
1
2
3
4
5
my left leg is cramping
6
7
8
9
...
my right leg is cramping
..
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69, god i wish i were doing that to you rn
70.
i stopped and stared for a moment. the weather looks grim. i light a cigarette.
it tasted like sweat. so much sweat for so many people, and she was last on the list.
seven days ago i had perfected a kimchi recipe. it had my blood, sweat, and tears on it, mainly due to me handling hot chili powder.
it was the first thing i could taste for weeks then.
sure it was tangy and spicy and had a resemblance to boiled cardboard, but it tasted like triumph.
but i couldn't eat two liters of those so i packed it and gave it away. one to a friend, two to a friend, one to some other friend.
and one to her.
let them taste triumph. let them know that success is sour and hot and somewhat boring.
let them know that i am still alive and has a clean kitchen and functioning legs and a functioning cell phone.
let her know that i am okay
but i didn't know why i wanted her to know that
she didn't care. so should i likewise. why care about caring for someone who won't care back
i took a drag. i sigh. i remember why
"care. everyone should care. because everyone does in the end."
she said that, not me.
i reach a breaking point. i close my eyes
i imagine her with another man. he's taller by another inch, his hair is waxed, he's in the same university and the same sidewalk and the same elbows as the one i liked.
i imagine her crying. she's always crying. she has him come closely with a drink in hand and paper towels.
i imagine the scene in the pulpit stairs where they pose for pictures, her in her perfect white gown with flowers in her hair, him in his candlestick head and soot black italian suit. and me in the back of the crowd, with rotten cabbage in my backpack and sweat in my shoulders.
i throw the ****** kimchi at her veranda. let her pants know what triumph tastes like, for all i care.
i run from her street, leaving my poor bike as witness. i run and run and run and run until my legs tear off and my arms fly away. i run away from some ****** past and all those ****** choices. i run until i'm dead. i have never felt so alive.
...
i open my eyes. the sun shines.
...
14321.
i mount my bike. i let plan b know that i am coming to her house. she's also not awake.
pedal pedal pedal. god i feel so weak. i am the strongest man in these streets.
...
i arrive at north. her windows are barred.
WAKEUP WAKEUP WAKEUP WAKEIP WAKUEP send
...
...
1
2
3
4
oh hey good morning. how long have you been waiting? you biked all the way?
i met her a few months ago. her hair is pretty. i know i'm going to ***** this one up too.
she was right with that quote.
.
.
.
