when i called my mom she said YOU GOT SHOT?
i was all, YES BUT THOSE DIRTY COPPERS WILL NEVER GET ME.
it was not a long wait. i wrote about it for my medium blog.
i met a bunch of people because i was in the best mood and we were all stuck together.
and when it was over, on my way to my car, i nearly cried out of sudden relief
all of this had built up in me.
probably in you too.
all of this angst and fear OF DEATH and this fucked up invisible hatchet man who seemed to arrive in people’s lungs with no rhyme nor reason
we see all these jackholes vacationing and partying and running around with no mask
and for all we can tell they dont get sick.
then you hear about this one or that one who “did everything right” and either they get it and die or get it and feel so lucky not to die.
i got a burrito at Tacos Arizas got home and soon became very sleepy and passed out in my robe.
was it relief? was it the drug? was it the angels saying go have super weird dreams as lana del rey goes through an hour of material?