she knew what was going to happen, and she didn’t care now we were talking about the supreme court, and the fact that Ruth Ginsburg left the court when a republican was in office—meaning that a republican judge was going to end up taking her place. we were lamenting our fortunes just a bit—because the supreme court was yielding more and more power to the president and overturning far too many of the decisions made by the lesser courts. the republicans totally had control of the supreme court—they were in control of everything—that’s why all the racists were coming out of the woodwork—because they could, because, in a capitalist society, they thrived! they were out of touch with reality while living their sheltered white lives.
but enough whining about our condition—my mom got sick on the day we flew back to Atlanta, and now my Dad was sick—so, was I going to get sick? What was going to happen to my telepathic shield if that happened? What was i going to do if i couldn’t talk to AOC? What was i going to do if i couldn’t tune into the frequencies that Van Gogh perceived as visible light? i took inspiration from artists that went largely unnoticed during their lifetimes—because that, for all I know, could be me—if I’m remembered at all.
Anyhow AOC was chatting on the phone with somebody right now—but the words that were coming out of her mouth were a function of our relationship—just as the words that came out of my mouth were a function of my dead uncle and AOC. there’s only so many ways that she can tell me she’s interested or angry—so our affair had reached a milestone: we were no longer merely infatuated with each other—but we wanted to go to the same place in the future, which meant that we were in love. I wanted her to fill in the gaps that are left as people, through some kind of big bang misnomer, drift away, probably for good.
So what was it like to be in love? Too feel some rare (for me) inkling of desire—enough to imagine a physical relationship—and reclaim the vestiges of my ego—the adult in me, the one that feels self-assured, and has no trouble interacting with others? But how can i be that person when that person has done nothing but get me into trouble? Or is it the opposite—am I becoming the opposite of that person—as a person that’s overcome any need to be recognized for the person he has yet to become? What was i thinking? Did I expect people to worship me when I’d done nothing but get angry that my talents were seemingly invisible—i mean my real talents, the ones that, in a perfect society (which i believe is possible in the United States no matter how bad things are right now), would make it possible for me to marry and live a semi-normal life as an artist—an artist that is provided for by the country’s estate.
Now, i know there’s no way to keep everybody from falling through the cracks—and the country couldn’t fund somebody’s existence just because they said they were an artist—so there had to be some criteria by which our talents are judged—so yeah, i might’ve had a chance, considering what i’ve done so far, if, that is, a limit was set on the amount of money you could make and still be a citizen of the United States. If we lived in a country that didn’t screw us—a country that didn’t say: swim or drown: a country that didn’t say things like: get a job or be homeless, but, rather, a country that habilitated people such that nobody would ever be homeless even if they chose to go camping for the rest of their lives—then, in that country, i would be truly happy—no longer in the pursuit of anything but making myself a better voice increment by increment.
As I downloaded AOC’s thoughts—she was off the phone, now, and, as such, free to speak to me if she wanted—by zooming in on the exact tones of AOC’s voice, i counted myself lucky a thousand times to have a family that looked after me. I can’t even express the anger i feel for the maga-right, because they put me under extreme amounts of pressure. They put me under extreme amounts of pressure and i took this moment to thank her for looking out for me. She didn’t admit to choosing a different path than the one she was going down with her boyfriend—but i might’ve preferred that she be with him as opposed to dating god knows who. Ideally, however, she’d be like me—and focus on her career and what she was good at (temporarily but indefinitely) over a sexualized life.
So what, now? If the minimum wage went up, then did that mean that prices, everywhere, were going to go up, too? Were we, as a species, cruel? that was why we needed to cap the amount of money that a person can make—such that, any surplus is reinvested in the people—be it free childcare, free education, free healthcare, etc., or, perhaps, yet another increase to the minimum wage such that the gap between the wealthy and the so called underclass was irrelevant at best. Such that nobody looked up to you if you were rich, because they had enough; they didn’t need you to give them their big break—you could look up to them, instead, (if they chose to remain citizens of this country) for choosing to look after—and equalize—with their fellow humans, people that, given a chance, wouldn’t offend us.