Sunday in the Park with Existential Meltdowns

Sunset looks nice tonight. Cotton candy vibes. I can groove to this.

So weird how when you walk into a park it’s like another ecosystem. The air feels cooler, cleaner. Kind of… moist. Thanks, plants. You rock. 

The bees are deep in those flowers. Okay, girl. Get it. I know you want it. But like also relax. I can’t believe I used to be afraid of you cute little, okay no. Not that close, I am not a flower. You are so cute and furry though. 

Oh my god a butterfly. Hello, beautiful. Do you know that you’re beautiful? Do you even care? Do you even think? 

Oh my god there’s another one. They’re flirting. They’re in love. My heart is going to freaking explode. Look at that joy. That whimsey. Are they aware that their life spans are super short and that’s why they live in the moment? Or are they just literally butterflies and don’t have to worry about that kind of introspective bullshit? Just fuck off, literally for reproduction purposes, and be. Alive. No worries. Fluttering about. 

Without the creeping dread that latches on in the precious moments before sleep can overtake you. And then, inevitably, you toss and turn until finally it’s obvious you missed your window and sleep won’t come because there is no end to the spiral that has taken hold of you. And the endless inquiry from the asshole in your brain. Why hasn’t Arnesh texted me back? It’s been three days. Is he just busy? Or seeing other people? Is this motherfucker ghosting me? Not that I even liked him that much, I just thought he liked me. Goddamnit that mediocre piece of shit does not deserve this attention and yet the compulsion lingers. I can’t believe I even considered sleeping with him. What the actual hell? How does he text me at this exact moment?

Hey gorgeous, sorry it’s been mayhem over here. I do concur, Samurai Jack must be in the top 5 cartoons of all time hall of fame. I will take that nomination and raise you Invader Zim. If you agree let me make you dinner Wednesday night? …or even if you don’t agree ;)

Wow. He’s so cute, and I am INSANE. Why does he even like me? I should respond, but maybe later. No, I should respond now, I don’t want to play games. No, I should wait until I feel less crazy. I really do love Invader Zim. Man, I hope I don’t fuck this up.

If I were a butterfly there’d be non of this. No weird obsessive relationships. No emotional baggage. No quest for meaning. No career. No college. Fuck, maybe I should think about grad school again. I mean. Maybe if I found a program with good scholarship programs? I just can’t justify going into debt right now. It’s time to start being responsible.

Oh shit, to make eye contact with he homeless dude on the bench or not. I don’t have cash. And here comes the rising guilt. Puppy dog eyes. Weak smile. Fuck I hate myself. He looks like he’s having a rough day. Should I talk to him? Would he even want to talk to me? I wish I didn’t have such a hard time with this. I wish I could just go over to him and say, “hey, I’m sorry you’re having a hard time, and while I don’t have cash, I’d be happy to hear you out,” without being a terrified baby about it. So what if he doesn’t want to talk? I should be able to handle rejection from a homeless dude. Not because he’s homeless, just because I should be able to handle it from anyone. Like Diego. Damnit.

Maybe I should grab him burger at Shake Shack. But what if he’s a vegetarian? What if he doesn’t like burgers. And, fuck I promised myself I wouldn’t spend anymore money this week. I’m so behind on rebuilding my savings. And an idiot for thinking I could work on my own. How could I have eaten through my emergency cushion so quickly? Why did I ever quit trading? Sure it was soul sucking but at least I was stable. Well, financially. Definitely unhinged mentally. I mean, I’m still pretty unhinged and now I can’t keep seeing my therapist because I lost health insurance. Cool. I’m so cool and good at making choices.

I’m going to end up homeless if I don’t start making more money soon. And now I’m crying in the middle of Madison Square Park. This is why I don’t leave the house without sunglasses. I bet there’s one of those Instagram bingos full of public places you can cry in New York. I bet I’d get bingo. Let’s see, like five bars, a club, the movies, at least four subway lines, several street corners, a rooftop—that one’s semi-private but I’ll say it counts, and now a park. Making progress for sure.

Sitting on this bench feels nice. Maybe I’m just tired. Crying is like an exorcism. I already feel a little better.

Oh hey, little squirrel. You’re so cute and, woah, very bold. Oh yeah? You’re gonna get closer? Hmm, let’s shake hand—

Oh my god and you accidentally scratched me. Can I get tetanus from this? No that’s from rusty nails or some shit. Rabies. The disease you are thinking of is rabies. How fast does it set in? I mean, I’m probably fine. Breath. You’re barely bleeding. Okay enough of this, let’s go get some antiseptic. 

Let’s respond to Arnesh first though. A lady has priorities. 

No worries. I get it. As it happens, I’ll take your Invader Zim and accept your invitation. Do you have a recipe in mind? Can I bring dessert? ;)

That was good. Cute. Cheeky. Okay. Carry on, young lady.

What?! Instant reply?? Nice to know my brain hasn’t messed this up for me… yet.

Well, I have been experimenting with my mom’s chicken tikka masala recipe which is pretty dope. Along with the paratha from TJ’s. As for dessert I’m not sure if you mean that literally or not but I’m down either way ;)

Wow that sounds delish. It’s true the TJ’s paratha is bomb.

I’ll surprise you!

Okay where’ the nearest CVS. Time to get my Neosporin on…