Folded Notes

Guy goes to a physicians office and says, "Doc, It hurts when I do this."
Doctor says, “Don’t do that.”

When I was younger, I used to sneak out of the house a lot at night. Sometimes I’d just take long walks, sometimes I find places to go. But whenever I crept down the stairs to make my escape, I always knew to look out for the 12th step on the staircase. That was the one that creaked when you put any kind of weight on it. That was the one that would wake someone up and get you caught.

        Three guesses how I discovered this fact.

It’s like I keep walking in circles, tracing a mobius. I stand in front of my own video wall of Keanu Reaves faces, each flipping me off and cussing as the old man in the suit tells me that I am in fact just another face in a long line of “chosen ones.”

These feelings, these frustrations, these fires. Smoldering embers finding their way back to fuel. Anger returns like a tide, gravity cycling the tropics. Every year there seems to be a new surge, a new wind, a new eye. But every year I find myself caught off guard by the approaching rains, every year I find myself unprepared for evacuation.

        Throw the flag,
        Watch the replay,
        Overturn the call.
        ...How hard is that?

It’s like I always need things to feel new. Like I need each challenge to feel different, even when they’re exactly the same. It’s like I want the storm to blow my house down before I admit that there’s a danger.

Pet the dog that bites you
Buy the drug that kills you
Want the things you can never have
Let the relative sleep on your couch... again.

        “Doc, it hurts when I do this”
        “Don’t do that.”