Kannst Du Nicht

if someone asked you directly, you would say that you love a little treat. you like iced coffee and getting the cookie. you drink juice out of a fancy cup sometimes, and often do use your candles until they gutter out helplessly.

but you hesitate about buying the 20 dollar hand mixer because, like. you could just use your arms. you weren't raised rich. you don't get to just spend the 20 dollars (remember when that could cover lunch?), at least - you don't spend that without agonizing over it first, trying to figure out the cost-benefits like you are defending yourself in front of a jury. yes, this rice cooker could seriously help you. but you do know how to make stovetop rice and it really isn't that hard. how many pies or brownies would you actually make, in order to make that hand mixer worthwhile?

what's wild is that if the money was for a friend, it would already be spent. you'd fork over 40 without blinking an eye, just to make them happy. the difference is that it's for you, so you need to justify it.

and it sneaks in. you ration yourself without meaning to - you don't finish the pint of ice cream, even though you want to. the next time you go to the store, you say ah, i really shouldn't, and then you walk away. you save little bits of your precious things - just in case. sometimes you even go so far as putting that one thing in your shopping cart. and then just leaving it there, because maybe-one-day, but not right now, there's other stuff going on.

you do self-care, of course. but you don't do it more than like, 3 days in a row. after that it just feels a little bit over-the-edge. like. you can't live in decadence, the economy is so bad right now, kid.

so you don't buy the rice cooker. you can-and-will spend the time over the stove. you can withstand the little sorrows. denial and discipline are practically synonyms. and you're not spoiled.

it's just - it's not always a rice cooker. sometimes it is a person or a job or a hug. sometimes it is asking for help. sometimes it is the summer and your college degree. sometimes it is looking down at scabbed knees and feeling a strange kind of falling, like you can't even recognize the girl you used to be. sometimes it is your handprint looking unsteady.

sometimes it is tuesday, and you didn't get fired, and you want to celebrate. but what is it you like, even? you search around your little heart and come up empty. you're so used to denying that all your desires draw a blank.

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+ You walk out of your shitty roadside motel room that you’ve been staying in since you ran away from home. It hasn’t been cleaned since the 50s but at least no one will find you out here, in the middle of the desert. You head towards the ice machine, but someone is already there. It’s the most popular girl in school, who you’ve had a crush on since 6th grade. She’s run away too.

+ You and your fed-up punk friends attempt to summon a demon at your all girls catholic boarding school, determined to wreck some wacky havoc on the oppressive staff. But the fun doesn’t last long as you realize you have unleashed something far more sinister. Something that doesn’t slam doors or break windows but drips deep into your psyche and reveals the meaning of pure evil.

+ The year is 1987, You’re part of a ragtag band of misfits that have been friends since childhood. All of you are gay, but no one has admitted it yet so rifts are forming in the gang. One summer morning you roller skate over to your best friend, the only other girl in the groups house to tell her you’re in love with her. Will it tear group apart once and for all or bring you back together?

+ You’re 17 and in love with your manic pixie dream girl of a best friend. It’s a wednesday night in early june and you can’t sleep because all you can think about is her stupid perfect crooked smile and just when you think you can’t stand it anymore you hear a tapping at your window. You open it and there she is, with that smile. She asks you if you want to go on an adventure. You’ve never wanted anything more.  

+ July is the season of rabid dogs. There’s something about the constantness of the heat that drives spikes into the head. This year there’s a new plague: the teenage girls. They are sick. The are restless. They are hungry. Their bare feet burn on the hot concrete but they won’t stop until they have tasted the blood of every abusive man in town.

+  You and your closest friends sit on the roof of your suburban house watching the sunset. The crisp, nearly-autumn breeze blows against your oversized hoodie while you sip cheap, lukewarm beer from a paper bag. No one says anything, no one has to.

+ It’s 1:30 am and you’re driving out of the city with your girlfriend asleep in the passenger seat. there are lights glowing on the highway and in the city behind you but it feels like it’s just the two of you, and you wish it could last forever

+ The year is 1975. The Russians went ahead and nuked us and well, just about everyone died. But don’t worry! There were a few survivors. You and your gang find yourselves with the entirety of west Hollywood all to yourselves and nothing keeping you from the thousands of mansions and all the goodies they might hold

+ You’re on the road with a crappy RV you bought somewhere sketchy with your best friend and her dog on the trip of a lifetime trying to make it as a bluegrass singer. You fall in love over crumpled maps, roadside lemonade, campfire sing alongs, and grimy dive bars where you pay for meals by washing dishes.

+ You walk into your room, satin gown flowing in your wake,You dramatically collapse into a dark velvet chair as if the cameras are rolling. You put on a record and pour your fourth glass of red wine. Your fifth husband has mysteriously died, good thing he left everything to you in the will.

+ You’re at a Halloween party in the basement of a seedy punk club, so wasted you can’t see straight. The ground starts shaking. More than it was before, are you imagining it? No. The bands screaming has gone from angry to terrified. The apocalypse is happening right now.

+ You stand in front of the house at the edge of town. The house with boarded up windows. The house with broken glass in the yard instead of flowers, like everyone else in your small misty mountain town. The house no one talks about. The house you only go when you have nowhere else to go. You have someone to find in there, someone you need to bring home.

+ Is there any place better to dissociate than a roller rink?

+ Everything is perfect here. It’s a nice cabin, tucked away in the depths of the Ozarks. The lake is right out back so she can swim whenever she wants. Swimming makes her happy. And all of this is to make her happy. This morning you wake up early to watch the sun rise over the water. It’s a perfect morning for a perfect place, golden light seeping through everything. Highlighting orange starting to creep into the leaves. Your breath catches in your throat. It’s almost October. Yes, this place is perfect. But it’s time to go home.

+ You’re a music producer who died overdosing on cocaine at a club in the 70s. You awaken in the exact spot you died in the year 2073. You’re hungry, thirsty, and hornier than you’ve ever been. But most importantly, you look as fly as you always have and you’re surrounded by beautiful women.

+ She’s an urban witch. A drugstore sorceress, mixing potions of Xanax and gasoline. Selling them on a street corner in the east village. No one knows her name, few know her face, But they say you’ll know her when you see her. You approach her on a chilled November night and offer a pack of cigarettes for a love potion. Hands shaking with anxiety and cold. She looks you in the eye and tells you you don’t need love potion. She’ll give you everything you want for free.

+ My boyfriend Oliver. I know this isn’t a concept but he’s super cute and i love him so let me live……DM me if you wanna see pics

+ You’re driving through the depths of the Appalachian mountains on a foggy night. You see a dark figure with glowing eyes up ahead at the edge of your headlights and your heart stops beating. No. It can’t be him…. He wasn’t supposed to be able to find you all the way up here I. You get closer and your shoulders relax, It’s just an old man. He smiles when you pass, his milky eyes reflecting back at you like stars. probably just a friendly local out for a late night stroll. You’re safe. It’s fine. Only 10 miles to go. Your engine dies the moment you realize that human eyes dont glow.

+ You’re a nerd, a nobody, the kid who sits by herself at lunch. The kid who never talks and never gets noticed by anyone. Yet here you are, dressed in your big sisters clothes, standing in the coolest girl in schools living room while a party rages around you. Tonight you’re going to be cool. Tonight you’re going to be the life of the party. Tonight she’s finally going to realize you exist. This is either the bravest thing you’ve ever done or the stupidest.