see? this is why! goddammit.

see, this is why i’m special.  this is why; this is why the cats on the fences along the streets and in the trees meow at me.  this is why polar bears enter my dreams and lend me their furry hides at night while i sleep and they die.  this is why i’m cold at night.  this is why i sweat when i sleep.  this is why i skip every other step and always always walk on the right side going up and the right side going down.  this is why i turn my eyes up to the sky and ask the stars at night, ‘are my parents ever coming home?’ and the sky replies, everytime, ‘try some free dippin’ dots.’  this is why my mind flies by forgetting to stop at whatever i’m in wherever i’m in whomever i’m in however i’m in, why it stops for disco lights but not stop lights, why it looks directly into the sunshine.  this is why it tells me when i sleep, ‘be glad you are not nobody,’ and when i ask it, ‘why?’ it replies, ‘there are mascara tracks down her cheeks, you see.’

this is why i’m special; i’m two hundred and thirty three thousand dollars in debt.

this is why i’m special; i forgot the password to this journal and the name of the email i used to register it with.

this is why i’m special; i bought a house with a girl i love.  unmarried.  old.  all alone.  all together.  frightened nervous tempestuous calming earth shattering cries i cry at night.  this is all on a note i found taped to the front door.  on a post-it note in the freezer, third shelf from the bottom.  written in the fog on the mirror in fingerprints dragged like lipstick across her lips.

written in ink from someplace behind my house, ‘they understand the things i had to do for love.  they don’t believe in restraining orders.’  they should, i think.

here is me, you see.  sitting on a metal park bench in the one hundred and three degree heat with my hands folded softly in my lap.  i’m looking for my grandma.  i’m looking for my friends.  i’m wearing 3-d glasses.  but they don’t help me see the dead.