Brave New Millennium

I write because there's no funner place for me. It assuages the pressure built up in my heart. It's like an exorcism every time I slice my way on the page. I write because if I don't, I go fuckin insane. I get depressed and begin hating myself and the world and my stupid place in it.

Nothing makes sense when I don't write. I can't tell what's really going on in the world. I can barely make sense of it. I soak up all the input, fill my tanks with lovely fresh data then crawl back and slime it all over the page.

Then I pour over it, my nostrils quivering micrometers from the paper, trying to decipher my hieroglyph scrawl. What the fuck am I really really really trying to say? What am I really trying to do?

I'm trying to take you by the hand in your heart, and squeeze hard harder hardest, just tryna make sure you're sure, like 100%, that I got your back no matter what. It's you and me, friend, against no one. We're in this together, all ten billion hearts beating alongside left and right.

Our differences hurt us so fuckin bad that we get ready to kill motherfuckers. Our ideas take us over the brink. What's your spine made of? Who's holding your hand? Who are you really deep down? Do you like who you are when you're all alone? Who's the monster in your head?

I'm a cockroach, caterpillar fuckin anaconda and I'm tight round your neck, making it difficult to breathe. Nah. It can sound pretentious when you get a metaphor wrong. She smiled like the Pacific Ocean. He died like the fog lifting off the river. My heart ached like apple sauce. Her teeth sank into his neck like the Titanic. No more. Okay one more. He dove head first off the skyscraper like a baby seal learning to be skinned alive like a nun in a habit like a scared kid in a bomb riddled doorway.

There's no such thing as reason. I'm a broken toy spinning in place. Where the batteries at? How do you get into this thing? Clunk clunk. They find the panel and my head gets cracked like Humpty Dumpty and little robots and drones put me back together with CRISPR and augmented reality.

I drank the Kool-Aid, friend. I'm a walking, talking stainless steel sum of my parts. I was made in the furnace of the twentieth century then switched on in 2001.

I blinked my eyes open into a Brave New Millennium. Light shone down in silver and gold. There, from such heights, I saw the Promised Land: peace, plenty and prosperity for all humankind.