somedays

somedays it’s all a struggle.

food stops being pleasurable and it’s an all out chore so i make a smoothie with everything.

the color of brown slop, it might as well be dirt, just so i can slide it into my gullet to make sure i don’t die or pass out while i’m busy trying to figure out what i want to be when i grow up.

somedays, nothing that comes out of me is clever, funny or interesting, like i open my mouth and reality television comes out, like i open my mouth and daytime talk shows appear so i close it and i crawl back into bed and tell myself i can come out once this malaise is over.

somedays i have conversations with my plants when i water them and compliment them on their new leaves, like they’ve put on fancy new outfits for the day.

i practice spanish with my dogs. they’re chihuahua mutts, they must understand on some ancestral level.

somedays i step outside right when my neighbor walks by with their dog and their yorkie runs up to me to say “hi! hi! hi!” panting and excited and it feels good to be completely loved by a stranger.