#weirdly rambles

My landlord has a sticker of Calvin from Calvin and Hobbes urinating on the word “liberals”. His house in the suburbs is massive, my neighbors have seen it. Here in my apartment, my bathtub is shallow and rusting. I quietly thank the universe that I even /have/ a bathtub

Above me is my old apartment, with a better bathtub. Wishing I had been more sane during those days, but knowing I can’t change the past, I think about how I would spend good two hours or so soaking and listening to classical music sent to me by my only and closest friend I had at the time

These days I try and bathe almost every night, a luxury taken away from me when I was inpatient. No bathing, no music, foggy memories…my stint in the ward almost cost me my sanity forever, but at the same time, being there taught me some valuable lessons about how the world can treat you when you go insane. They take everything you have and then some, because they feel you can’t be trusted

I think about the others in there and I hope they made it out too. Two of the women I was with gave me their numbers but I’ll probably never call. One was convinced I was her dead friend reincarnated, the other told me “purple is a girl color”. I can’t remember if both of them knew I’m trans or just the one… regardless it was a “open secret” which made me even more frustrated

These moments when I can’t sleep, I think of the ward. I think of the small graces and the grave failures and the dangers of the way they have things set up there. I think about the man who took the yoga mat we shared to his room and wouldn’t give it back. I think about the guy with the infinity tattoo who played Taylor Swift during music group.