I know I said I wouldn't but I already did...

i want to study marketing. education marketing. 

i want to move to nebraska and live in the cornfields where no one ever advertises. 

today, we are electing a black president, if you want to call him black. or you could call him a nigger if you were my backwards-ass cousin who no doubt has had intimate relationship with a family of sheep. or you could call him a nigger if you were my backwards-ass seventh graders from the ninth ward who no doubt imagine he also used to throw pencils at his teachers instead of learning how to effectively long-divide. or you could rejoice internally and externally with however many tokes of whatever you are smoking because you were there on the day that this country lost some of it's chokehold on racial power relations, and dream that he will close his inaugural address with "suck it, whitey" and a history-making groin thrust. 

in the meanwhile, my days are still for naught. because i'm still not in the club-- still at the whim of the system.

but i am medicated now, so it all has this new chemical ring to it, the world. i'm three weeks in and doing just fine. just fine to listen to music and hear the chords. just fine to fill out paperwork from the top to the bottom, in order, without skipping around the page like a toddler eating from a grown-up plate. i am just fine to live in this movie set new orleans where there are only facades and not real houses. 

and tonight, i will go out. 

there is nothing beautiful about my job anymore, now that larry is elsewhere. they are 13 and 14 and 15 and i am 23 or 43 or from grand forks or from compton and no difference is made. it's work. and to them, it's school. i grew up all at once, with a diamond-shaped white tablet that i am so glad to have. 

i am ashley prevost. 

i am a penguin.

i am not fifty six cents in a cash register. 

i have to. or else. 

i wish i were my brother.