Let the Black Dog Run Over Your Squishy Knee

Over Thai food I’m told that acid stays in your spine. If people have taken a lot of acid and then get a spinal injury it can distribute into their blood. I imagine a human back like a glow stick—like a capillary action sending acid into a broken body. 

This could be a myth passed down over generations, likely by concerned parents. It appears that the longest it will stay in your system is through your hair and there it can be traced for months.

~

One night I didn’t like how I felt. A walk will help, I thought. I put my headphones on and walked to a new dispensary (further understanding my neighborhood, I told myself). Muscle memory over and over. I thought about my step—the order in which the three points of my feet were hitting the ground like I was taught in a gyrotonics class in highschool. I think about how I roll my lips over each other—to bite my cheek makes me an occupied person. This is all normal until I think about the facts. My heart is beating, I am nervous, I am thinking about those around me, and how my body feels in space just to walk a couple blocks away. There are definitely people that do not worry of this. Yes, I am an anxious person, I think. 

I accidentally purchased indica gummies. I knew these would just make me fall asleep. 

I tried one and didn’t feel anything for hours, assuming my tolerance had increased. Then the back of my eyelids became very important and imagined each nerve ending in my body, a meditation for sleep.

A week later, my five hour plane ride was pleasant. I did not get antsy and all my needs were met. The clouds looked tall, some touched and made me think of snap peas. At one point I stared out the window so long that when I went to write something in my notes app, I couldn’t see the words behind the green hue that had taken place of my screen. It lingered for minutes until my eyes forgot the brightness of outside. 

~ 

I knew the humidity would be harsh, but I did not anticipate my lack of acceptance of it. I walked out of the airport inhaling steam, preparing for a gust of fresh air. The steam was the air. Oh, right. I giggle with my mother and turn into a slug. The silence during the day feels like medication and the song of bugs in the evening is how darkness should always sound. 

Crosses, construction sites that are dense and orange, trees pulsating with organisms and air. 

My mom describes decision fatigue and tells me that is why I am so tired. Likely.

In bed, I look at my dog sleeping. At night his face gets lost in his black fur, and I feel his weight share my mattress. I imagine him leaping through trails and how I’d like to capture that image so I could have his stretched body tattooed over my right knee. 

~ 

Today, brunch has thick accents and bad AC. Everyone has multiple beverages in front of them and plates of rich, textured food. My mom asks if they have regular mayonnaise, not Duke’s. The waitress says they only have Duke’s. Duke’s is a staple—it’s thick and sweeter. My mom says it’s like Reddi Whip to her. 

Conversation topics come and go so quickly. 

“I love our waitress,” I said. 
“I knowwww. I want her to be our grandma,” Emma responded. 
With confusion I said “she’s not that old.” 
“Look at her hair” 
“Emma… Mom would probably be that gray if she didn’t dye her hair.”
“Oh my god. You think so?” 

~

Back in L.A., I make artichokes and have to consult my mom to know when they are done. Meredith has never eaten them this way. Bursting oranges for sangria and a pitcher in hand upon walking in the door. Right away they want cutting boards and pretty glasses. I crouch in the kitchen to talk intermittently. Meredith helped clean up and Izzy brought a blanket to her chin when we all chatted on the couch. It’s symbiotic, all of us breathing in the gaps. Meredith showed us how she can take her nipple piercing in and out. We fingered the artichoke and kissed each other goodbye. They left the Whole Foods tart they bought and a whole bottle of red wine. One night I took a slice and the next time I entered their apartment I had a half eaten tart and a full bottle of wine.