[i]
☼ ○ ▬
There's a heated argument between two lovers. I'm caught in the middle of it. This could be a part of a play or a scene in a movie. I can't tell the difference. That's how good the acting is. I leave the room and go inside a massive store with many aisles and many people. I search endlessly for something edible, something to sustain my hunger. Everything I find just doesn't cut it; all these popular brand name processed foods just don't appeal to me. I get on my bicycle and ride around the store trying to find the exit. I keep dodging everybody. At some point I stand up on the pedals and all of a sudden I'm as tall as the ceiling, too high for comfort. I'm afraid of toppling over and hurting myself but I maintain my balance. Eventually, I make it outside safely and continue on my way.
▬ ○ ☼
Waking up regretfully too late at 1:22 p.m.
Honey Bunches of Oats with Triple Berry Granola and Almond Milk.
Researching and business.
Coffee.
Errands.
Egg Sandwich with Tomato and Mayo. Popped Potato Chips. Orange Juice.
Working out at the Rec Center then adult basketball.
[ii]
Apple.
In the dining room Leisa and Josh are trying to sing Wilco together while I cook dinner.
Sesame Ginger Seared Tuna Steak with Kale, Carrots, and Perogies.
Watching The Master (2012).
Coffee and Milk Chocolate.
Josh, Kevin, Leisa, Jessica, and Sophie are hanging out in the living room. I stop on my way downstairs and join in the conversation. At first they were talking about Hitler and then the Assad Regime. Now Kevin is asking me silly questions about my experience in Russia. Josh is drinking a brand of red wine with his name on the bottle; literally the brand is called "Josh". How appropriate.
Recently, the house received a letter from Jessa Potter. She's been serving time in jail ever since she set fire to a bunch of Salvation Army donation trucks. It's caused quite a stir on Facebook after I posted it. It seems the extreme nature of Jessa either fascinates people or repulses people and, in some cases, terrifies people.
To: Sir James Robert Smith & Co.
From: Potter #1830529 (NFK City Jail)
1-29-14 (Original letter written in cursive)
Mr. Warhol (&Co.),
I figured it to be well past time to dispatch my most sincere appy polly loggies to you & your, shall we say, Superstars, for any & all damages incurred whilst yours truly was in the House of 1435. They are as follows: "crass" spray paint on the fence(s), subsequent damage from my attempt to erase said paint, ignition of paper lanterns & henceforth the fence they were attached to (whoops), release of several hundred crickets into Kevin Moore's bed, and lastly, the bloodstains on the downstairs bathroom wall (innocent play with Jordan). I could easily imagine being barred indefinitely from the premises.
HOWEVER!, I maintain that I DID NOT have anything to do with the flooding of the bathroom that occurred on 12/12/12 NOR did I steal anyone's camera (though my own camera was, indeed stolen that night). I hold fast to the belief that whoever DID flood the bathroom did so knowing I'd be blamed for it (@StephHauge). I will admit to attempting to short-circuit the power to the entire block using the Mylar balloons I brought just for the occasion (Google it). Alas, it didn't work.
Perhaps you could make my apologies public in that way you do. Oh, and I don't know if Calum McPherson ever comes around, but please let him know I'm still sorry he was driven around at knife-point by my ex-boyfriend under the pretense of "going to the beach".
On a lighter note, I've gotten the scoop on good ol' Kenneth. He's cooking meth, still wearing that headlamp & is currently working on digging holes the size of golf balls out of his flesh, in search of the parasite which he believes infests him. He puts said flesh in a jar, where he says "you can see their eyes glow orange at night". Yes, it's a small world in here.
No need to write back. I'll be transferring to another facility by March.
With appreciation for you & your kind,
Jessa Skye Potter
P.S. I'll be back by 2016..hide the children.
"What a gal," Josh says.
Fiddling on the guitar before I fall asleep at 5 a.m.
[i] Image of tall biker rider.
[ii] Image by me.
[ii] Image by me.
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