MONDAY SKY

TEXT MESSAGE FROM ELENA: …Dad needs blood donation…

I reply, “Oh dear... May I have details please?”

REPLY: DETAILS

I reply, “Okay, will spread it…”

TEXT BRIGADE THEN TO CHINGGOY: …can you spread the word that Elena’s dad needs blood donation? DETAILS. Please pray for his recovery. And if it’s not too much to ask, can you also please pray for my friend L’s soul? He killed himself so I’m not sure if God would actually accept his soul in Heaven…Thank you so much.

REPLY: I will my friend…How are you?

I reply, “I’m angry about it…”

REPLY: I can imagine, my friend…

REAL

DISPLACE

IMAGINATION

DISPLACE

TEX MESSAGE FROM MICKEY:…Ah me. Here we are trying to make the best of life while others place no value in it…

WORK

DISPLACE

CAR CHECKED AND WASHED

MEMORY: 2001/2002 “…WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING THE WHOLE DAY ANYWAY?” “CLEANED THE 3 CARS.” “REALLY? CAN YOU WASH MY CAR TOO?” “HAHA. YOUR SHOT (HOWARD).” “SOMETIMES I HATE PLAYING BILLIARDS WITH YOU. CHAMBA MO EH.” “JUST HAVING FUN WITH STICKS, BALLS, AND HOLES!”

TEXT MESSAGE FROM LETTER A: …work…haven’t slept since…

SKY

I reply, “That happens. Taking anything? If it gets so bad, you can take…”

More text exchange with letter A.

VELOCITY NEEDS CHECKING AGAIN.

COMPRESSOR IS NEXT.

DETAILING, TOO.

I call, “…The fucking car looks like it’s been gangbanged. Jesus fucking Christ. And ever since I started touching our cars again, I don’t want to touch the damn kitchen. I’m resenting cooking.”

Answer: We’ll get that fixed.

I say, “Okay. No rush. Don’t tire yourself too much. Drink water, Beh.”

I call, “Have you eaten? I’m coming over. You cook. Gnomie’s bugging me about the weight loss and Magpie will probably scold me about it when she gets back from the Sates.”

Answer: Laughter. Back to cars, huh?

I say, “It’s all Dad’s fault. My and my sisters qualifications for being a wife: oh, we can do anything, we even know how to construct a house.”

Answer: Laughter. Come over.

I text, “I’m going over to…”

Answer: Okay. Just rest…

MOTORIZED JUNGLE MAKES MECHANIZED HUMANS

DISPLACE DETAILS

I lug my stuff four flights.

VACUUM

MUSIC

TEXT MESSAGE FROM SASHA MARTINEZ: Hey Mamia. I really like how you used the age as markers/names/endearments in your last entry. (Smiley) I will steal this, haha…

I reply a laugh …use it, fuck it…and thank you for introducing me to the M&G ballpen which I’m now using to break my journal’s hymen…

I ask, “Is anyone coming over tonight?”

“No. You need to talk.”

JOBS AND STUDIES

EATING

TALKING

I say, “You know what Quad scripsi, scripsi means in life?”

RESUME

RECONSTRUCTION

ANALYSIS

I say, “…time-bound into Grace.”

Shake of the head, “Alone in all that? You poor girl…”

I say, “Boo-hoo. All part of healing.”

Sigh, “C’mon, let’s watch Kite Runner. Don’t mind me if I cry.”

I laugh.

We watch.

SCENE

I flinch, “Dude, I’m not supposed to watch shit like that.”

“Oh shit, forgot, don’t look, don’t look, sorry, sorry, oh shit.”

DON’T LOOK AWAY

DISPLACE

I say, “Good movie. I need to work on some stuff.”

SKY-LOCK SLIPPING, BLASTING WINTER POINT OF PROTOTYPE…

I grit …So Fly, You Bastard, Fly! “Done for now. I’m too tired to drive. Crashing. If I have nightmares…”

“Don’t worry about it.”

I text, “I’m spending the night here…Too tired to drive…”

SLEEP

DREAM

RESUME

RECONSTRUCTION