I have this playlist called Summer Birds and it’s from 2007. I liked 2007. I was twenty-one, uncorking champagne and kissing boys and I spent a lot of time at Otis Grove on the Boston Esplanade. That’s where I was when I found out my dad had to have quadruple bypass surgery. His birthday is Wednesday. I remember talking to my mom on the phone and there were these baby ducks around me and I wanted that to mean something more, but really it just meant that there were baby ducks around me and I liked their feathers.
I used to listen to this cover of Burn by Pink Nasty all the time. Even when I was really happy. Like I’d just be riding on the Red Line and the skyline was as toy-like as ever and the sun was burning a hole right through my head. Someone once said I move through my life like a zombie. So I’m the undead? I said. I’m alive, I’m alive! He just stared at me.
Tonight my downstairs’ neighbors gifted me with their couch. It’s red like burning, too. I sat on it for a second alone. I don’t know why this is so personal lately. I don’t know what I’m going through. Aren’t we all searching for something unnamed? Deep down you know it’s best for yourself but you hate the thought—
