the afterparty

the afterparty:
a thought process poem

i have a juicebox.
life is the absolute pinnacle of insanity,
forget the preachers; god is dead
we’re all spiraling aimlessly to our doom
in the vaccuumy depths of an indifferent universe-
i’m not sure you’re understanding me-
i have a juicebox.
what kind of a fucked-up joke is this?
i don’t think you understand, i don’t have space for a juicebox-
i have a lot on my mind, i have blood under my fingernails and failed suicide--

but i don’t. i don’t have any of that.
instead
i have
a juicebox.
and i’m just sitting here, like an idiot
like i fell out of some other movie into this one.
you can’t just switch movies like that. it’s not the same at all, you’d have to be...
a different person. or something.
and there are so many questions now-
how did i get to this curb
outside of this house- my house-
how did this get to be my house?
and it’s not like i don’t remember, it’s...
it’s like one day, instead of walking home from school, you just up and flew there.
and then sat down. the question isn’t how do you fly, its how the fuck do you sit down once you land
HOW DO YOU SIT DOWN
and you remember flying home
but it’s just so nonsensical-
how did i—yes i know i flew that wasn’t my question i was asking how i got here.
here where flying is possible and the sidewalks laugh with you and not at you,
here where there are little yellow flowers but you don’t need them to survive or anything, you just think they’re pretty.
they’re pretty.
and what could i possibly do here, in this ridiculous pretend world of laughing sidewalks and yellow flowers,
i don’t have the appropriate skill set for this.
maybe i’m just out of practice.
but what do i do now?
i don’t know how
i dont know how, ok? i dont know how to sit on a curb and hold a juice box i dont know how
to be that girl.
i don’t know
i guess i could... have some juice.
it’s my favorite kind.
that’s lucky right? that i landed here magically with my favorite kind of juice.
and maybe it’s not lucky, maybe it’s something else.
maybe i didn’t fall out of the sky at all, maybe i just got up, one day, and left. and
walked
all the way here.
maybe the whole world is spinning on its side and we’re all just holding on real tight only we don’t know it because we’ve been gripping the planet our whole lives.
and maybe i should stop worrying about what i should be doing, because maybe this is the afterparty, and maybe i just came to dance.


this juice is really good, do you want some?
it’s apple.