It's sort of shit, right? When you're on your bike and you're riding down the same sidewalk you always do, and you have to because the cars in the road never go the speed limit and this whole being a human person thing sucks but it's not like you have a death wish or anything. Anyway. And the sidewalk feels so much more bumpy and uneven than usual because the city doesn't care and all the trees lining the road are wriggling their roots under the cement and your front tire keeps catching and almost throwing you to the ground. It's just. It's just not that great, really. But you have to be at work sort of on time today or your boss is totally going to fire you eventually for being late every day. At least you get to ride your bike to work. And in the fall the trees on this road are really nice.
Work is fine. Same as ever. Pretend to sort through books and think about when the next time you can go for a walk outside is. And you're feeling super out of it all day too, and that's even more shit because it's your fault. You're a week late on your injection, and you hate doing your injection because you can't do needles but it's easier to DIY and just buy your own than it is to play 20 questions with some doctor who'd rather be doing anything else than talking to you. And they probably wouldn't even give it to you. You've been doing this how long? 4 years? Hm, well, this is an intake so we'll have to do the whole process. Come back in 2 weeks and we'll see how you're feeling. It's just easier to do them yourself. Like tonight. Like you need to do it tonight. You know, in that apartment you have with your girlfriend. Right.
The girlfriend that might have cheated on you. Or not? Or whatever? You don't really care and that's weird. You probably should care. I mean, that's the number one thing you should care about, right? Not like you aren't guilty of the same crime. But it was just the one time and you've already cleared it up with her but you still feel a little awful about it because yeah, obviously.
And then way later, a week maybe, you do break up. Or maybe you were already broken up because you hadn't been feeling at all the last while. And actually maybe this is what you needed. Everything is sort of shit and you can't feel anything and maybe you just need to fix everything! Right now! You could go to a diner, the one you always go to, ride your bike in the misty rain, park it outside. It'll be really dramatic, you could jump off and let it slide-crash into the wall while you run inside to order a coffee, two sugars hold the milk. Not that you'd do that. You don't have enough in your account to get a new bike and besides you like this bike. But you still need to fix everything forever so there's that.
Actually, maybe you just need to go. Go somewhere, it doesn't matter where. You could borrow your girlfriend's car. Ex-girlfriend's car. And just, like, go somewhere else, like, Nevada. Yeah, Nevada. And then you'll fix your whole life.
Then there's this kid in a Walmart. And he's obviously like you. He's practically walking around curled over himself. If you looked away for a second he might just disappear. Wait. Wait this is perfect. You can fix this kid's life. You're shit at everything but this! You can go up to this kid like, hey kid, I know what's up with you and I'm here to help. And he be like, um what, and you'll be like listen kid, I was like you once, and then you'll flash through a montage of helping him out. Helping her out. Helping zir out. Whichever. You know better than to pick for someone else.
This is perfect. You've got a car, well you've got your ex's car, and you can fix something for once. And after a while you keep messing everything up and it's not working even a little bit and there's a sense it'll feel totally shit forever. Or maybe it won't. Whatever.
Binnie, Imogen. Nevada. NY: MCD x FGS, 2022. Koller-Collins Collection PS3602.I5474 N48 2022
