Jimmy or James
I’m reading a DM I received from an anon over night: “Hello, and welcome to your guided meditation for being a less-annoying-comic-sans-cringe-y-nigger-faggot with anxiety…”
We’ve got fruit trees outside the halfway house now, and our neighbor is in the hammock next to the stone Buddha statue. James is puking his guts out, nobody comes when you call out here. It’s why we come here. Nobody here has a life-line left, there’s just the hardness of the floor. And the weight of blankets, hard boiled eggs, cigarettes.
“I miss the burning in my head!” I say, out-loud to nobody and to the empty room.
“I need my lighter, I need someone to lend me a car!”
“I need a house with lots of light, and windows that shower me with inspiration!”
“I need a woman who acts like a whore and a wife!”
“I’M SICK OF THIS - ALL I DO IS SIT AND MAKE LISTS, ENDLESS LISTS OF WHAT’S HAPPENING TO ME. ALL I CAN DO IS DESCRIBE THE BUTTERFLY, OR THE LONELY WAY I FUCK THE PILLOW BETWEEN MY LEGS. IT’S PATHETIC, FUCKING PATHETIC!!”
Just then James is standing in the doorway to my bedroom, he’s young in his late 20s. A self proclaimed good writer, who makes it his job to visit as many readings and poetry things around Los Angeles he can. I’m leaning off the edge of the bed, in the direction of the blue bucket marked “W” just next to the night stand. My pants are on but I’m not wearing a shirt, I don’t know how loud I was really, I never do and I didn’t care.
“I think I’m losing my mind,” James says. James was in the shared bathroom the past hour puking, and waiting to puke. I could hear him moaning, and coughing. It kind of relaxed me, because it was him and not me.
“I can’t stop thinking about her.”
“thinking about who”
“Kenzie, I can’t stop thinking about her and that line on her throat and just this whole past month, man”
“I need a cigarette.” I reply.
James leaves for a moment, I listen to his feet hurry to the adjacent room. Everything makes a sound here, the floors clap back at you, creak at you - move under you. You never feel alone here, even if you are.
James hands me a cigarette and then extends a lighter he was already holding in the opposite hand.
“I just think I should have done it, I should have gone, you know? I’m so afraid of people figuring it all out, I just think the Octopus was a mistake. The whole thing with the Octopus.” he says as he lights my cigarette.
“You did what you had to” I say to James exhaling the first drag off the Parliament light that tasted terrible, but worked fine.
“That faggot in New York, he thinks I won’t but first second I get out of here and back in my old place I’m going to…”
James always spoke about this girl. But I never knew the backstory, I never asked him. Or I can’t remember if he’s told me it, so when it comes up I just listen while looking for the exit in the conversation.
“Well it sounds like you’re good to go, hey do me a favor?”
“Anything man!” James says quickly with a nod and a smile.
“If you could leave, that would be great. My head is banging and I’ve got writing to do.”
I knew he would take it alright. It wasn't a big deal, it was nothing close to how I really felt about him anyhow. Being around the people here made me nervous, I know somehow deeply that I have a very small bit of life left in me. It’s what keeps me doing this every day. I know my mind is too loud for me to relax. But It’s what sends the child support payments on time, and drags me to CVS to buy more toothpaste. James said something which sounded annoying and left the room, he came running back and handed me 4 unlit cigarettes and offered a fist pound with his right hand, which I declined with a smile while thanking him for the cigarettes.
I am who I think I am.
“I’m looking for rules. I can’t stop throwing myself down the stairs of my mind” I say to myself, picking up where I left off.
I decide I should just stare out the window for a while and smoke. So I do. I text you a picture of me doing it. I crave you like a drink, I need a shot, I need someone to tell me I'm good. Sometimes I just want to be your stupid cat, I want you to take my phone and charge it in a different room. I want you to let me sleep for 15 hours and wake me up gently with you sitting there not talking and we won’t speak for a while and then you’ll leave and I’ll fall back to sleep and wake up again around 1 am when you come back drunk and loud, and I get my second wind and we can go out for a bit.