Living in New York has taught me the value of my own time. Other cultures (European, Californian, etc.) have often critiqued New Yorkers for "always being in a rush." Some have said that New Yorkers speed walk through their lives. However, I just see that as prioritizing efficiency, which is why I've always preferred receiving bad news first. If there's a problem that needs to be solved, I can figure it out during the time it takes for you to tell me the good news. My therapist says that this is a way to "postpone my own happiness" or whatever that's supposed to mean. I started seeing her as a way to help with my depression and anxiety. Being depressed can make getting out of bed feel like an insurmountable task. Putting on my bra can be as draining as trying to watch the first 2020 Presidential Debate sober. My mentally healthy roommates find it hard to understand why my room is perpetually in a state of disarray and my laundry bag overfloweth. However, I think it's even harder for them to understand why I'm still unemployed. I don't really get it myself, but I learned in college that the television industry is a little tricky to break into. When I graduated I assumed that it would take two, maybe three months to get a job but I quickly realized that I wouldn't be able to speed walk into a writer's room. Over the past six months of unemployment, my preference for hearing bad news first has developed into a need. Every new job posting is a vehicle for the waning hope I have for my career. Therefore, the sooner I get rejected the sooner I can get back to scouring jobs on Indeed and LinkedIn. The amount of time it takes for me to overcome disappointment is the same amount of time it takes for me to write another cover letter.

"So, do you want the good news first or the bad news?" She asked.

However, I couldn't help but take notice of her tone. It wasn't the light, airy, melodic tone she usually spoke with. No, this was... different. Darker.

I watched as she wrung her pale, slender hands in front of her body. Her head swiveled left, then right as she tried to look anywhere but directly at me.

And that was when I saw it. It was barely visible at first. In fact, I was sure I'd have missed it entirely had I not been watching her so intently. But slight as it may have been, it was there. Her entire body trembled as if someone had set all of her motor functions to vibrate.

I didn't want to believe it. I couldn't. The only hint of light on this damned desolate ship. The bright, bubbly woman I had grown to look up to, was terrified of something. And I was willing to bet that it had something to do with whatever it was she came to tell me.

"What's the bad news?" I asked.

I like to think that I am...

Kind

Caring

Loving

Loyal

Smart

Creative

An amazing friend

<3

to be free

to hold my own life

in my own hands

to be free

to release the stagnant possibilities

and embrace the progressing unknown

to be free

to be able to breathe

as my mind unlocks its cages

and my spirit bursts from its cocoon

to be free...

(am i finally free?)

I've done it again

Haven't I?

Peep and retrieve

corrupt drive

One minute in a second

a second in a moment

a moment of thousand reflections

shattered thoughts

and broken perceptions

I chose poorly

I chose defeat

stuck in limbo

wanting relief

I need to go back

Just a minute

Retrace my tracks

mend the bad steel

Replace my drive

choose to stand still

Protect my mind

do the right thing

i hate everything i’ve ever written

the things i haven’t, too

i’ll spoon spite into my hungry wounds

use incense on my forearms

to practice english

but all i write of:

worry

worry

worry