“Tennis Paradise,” it’s a religion that teaches you to question authority and maintain empathy for your fellow man. The only thing I really think of is, how can I serve my director? So I keep posting thirst traps. It’s called “facecard propaganda.” Built entirely from translucent panels, glowing from within at night, casting no shadow during the day, my body looks excellent. “Whatever you say beautiful.” This is what people are commenting. I honestly just wish I bought this bra a lot sooner. I’ve kind of always looked the same. Except for my hair. Everything changed for my hair when I decided I was going to love it. Thank you universe, time for me to have a baby.
She may be small, but she’s got a spring in her step. It’s the first time she’s seen snow. I can hear her trudging towards me, it’s the best sound I’ve heard in a while. Inside we dry off and talk about her future. I ask her what she’s going to do for a job one day. She says “mama, we’re going to have to find an office.”
I didn’t sleep well at all last night. We never found an office, not even close. I’m living my worst nightmare. I’m going to drive to the place where I lived when I was addicted to fentanyl and heroin. Why? Two reasons: 1) Tennis Paradise, 2) to look for my daughter who is lost out there. I find this super healing.
Alive but strung out, she’s lost years of lucidity to a preventable condition. I miss her. Addiction can be passed down and you don’t know what the hell is going on. This girl was one cool older brother away from being incredibly normal and happy lol. Instead, she’s terrorizing the city. Getting angry at people when they breathe or eat is called “misophonia” and is an actual brain disorder. Tennis Paradise was the only thing powerful enough to save me. All I needed was some resonance. Resonance is real. It’s not some buzz word.
It’s lonely being alone. People are always telling me about a time where I looked “so sad.” The hostess thinks: “okay, sad table for one,” but I’m actually singing for one hundred thousand people on TikTok. Sometimes you go round and around. Nobody stops and nobody knows. Old people just be doing anything. They are spinning in circles. This is chucky ducky letting you know, get out of the circle. I have hope, I don’t have to harden. It’s time to live, it’s time to. Consider this my desperate plea for help. My daughter, a true person with an empathetic and friendly demeanor, is missing.
The Costco food court did it again, one of those addiction moments where if I don’t laugh, I’ll cry. I’ll never look at protein bars the same. A fighter until the very end, so beautiful and confident. There was nobody like you. You did so good. Steve Albini’s closet is now a weekly digital estate sale.
The barn feels different without her gobble echoing through it. Normally I trim the fan blades. This time, I trimmed the house. I’m posting this to show you how furby processes loss, not for advice or sympathy. It was a fun and confidence boosting way to celebrate all she learned. People need more of this. Genuinely thank you for verbalizing it this way.