Intercourse on the Darjeeling Ltd.
1. Almost every time we’d stop by a bodega, upon check out my dad would ask for a beantown card. They were a brand of these prepaid phone cards you’d use to be able to make international calls. We couldn’t call people in another country without those cards, 2 dollars a card, multiple times per week, week after week, to talk to his family back home in west africa. I really wonder what it all added up to, how many hundreds or thousands of dollars.
Eventually everyone gained access to skype and then whatsapp and facetime so now he talks to everyone all the time for better or for worse.
I haven’t thought about it in so long, I’m glad he has easier access to his family, but yknow something equally beautiful is also lost without the ceremony of it. To go outside on a cold new england day with me tagging along behind him, ask for a beantown card, come home and dial the pin on the card to call his mother, or his brothers, or one of his many girlfriends, he’s a real social butterfly that guy.
2. The rest of the family was in the living room while I was in my room doing this thing where you’d screw a bottle cap on tight and then twist the empty bottle around the middle until it was pressurized. Then you’d very slightly start to unscrew the cap and it would explode off, making a very loud noise. I did this a few times and on the third go around my parents yelled at me from the living room to stop doing it. I remember very distinctly screwing the bottle cap back on, twisting the bottle even tighter, and smiling wryly as I prepared to pop it once again. Sometimes I describe particularly disturbing moments as “it feels like rubbing sand on my heart” but this time, as that smile split across my face, it felt more like dropping an ice cube into the mariana tench. I wasn’t afraid of anything. To this day, that’s the only time in my life I’ve ever felt like that. As I write this I realize, that’s when one of my other faces was born.
3. Walking back from shopping two days ago, Angel and I were discussing various things when the conversation steered to dating. I told him how there are so many things I’m insecure about and frequently worry about having to explain to a future partner early on, and that every time I have this worry or day dream about the scenario, one of the voices says “well, you don’t HAVE to date or sleep with anyone again.” At first, it was a fringe idea, but lately, more and more so, it’s a comforting idea. It’s perhaps even…alluring. That’s right, I don’t ever have to expose myself in this way again, I don’t have to hand someone a gun pointed at me and hope they don’t shoot. I can have freedom of movement, I can “keep as many pets as we like!” How crass. When it says pets, it’s referring to temporary or part time lovers.
“what about Hwan?”
I had a dream we were on an island on a road. It was twilight, the sky was red. We kissed, I pulled away, she gently brought me back in for another kiss, as was often the case in real life. Though for a moment, with how distinctly I felt their lips, I was convinced it was real. I’m letting go, or at least letting be. I won’t talk about him anymore. I feel my form reconstituting itself. Bits and pieces from all parts of the globe, everywhere I’ve been. Everything I’ve ever lost, now coming home.
4. Obvious or outspoken perverts are honest at least! They don’t hide their intentions behind small talk, they don’t pretend really. I like perverts because of this.
5. Smoking is cool because smokers are like perverts. When you think about why someone starts smoking, you realize this about them. Some people smoke to die, by doing so, they are admitting they don’t like being alive despite everyone telling them how lucky they are to be. They say, life is shit and Id rather not do it! Some people smoke because they think it makes them look cool. They are admitting that they care about how they are perceived, and they aspire to be loved! It’s a very vulnerable thing to express. Some people smoke because they like the taste and smell. I understand this! The combination of a marlboro smooth and bottled green tea, or a black american spirit and some jasmine tea or sweet wine perhaps. Really spectacular stuff that makes me feel like the people who smoke to die just don’t get it! Even though that’s why I started smoking! hehehe
6. Mack from hinge apologizes a few times over the weeks for being MIA, for being “such a bad texter” my usual responses, “it’s chill”, “no worries” etc.
A mate says things like “sorry I made you go away” “sorry I was cold” says something about wanting to “be able to open up” to me. I respond, “it didn’t come off as cold to me” “you don’t need to open up to me”.
Another says “sorry… it’s been a hectic two weeks” with the laughing crying emoji “no worries same here tbh” is my response.
One especially interesting one after days of leaving me on delivered texts me “hi pookie can i trouble you for some change” some minutes pass by and i don’t respond as I’m working at the time and she follows up with another text “also i’m sorry i didn’t respond before i definitely fell asleep” i respond “how much do you need” and send her what i can afford because im so often needing help myself
Yet another in the midst of a particularly messy breakup, sudden uptick in communication as she needs a favor, needs me to grab something for her so she doesn’t have to see or communicate with her ex. I understand and am happy to do so! The interesting part is how (as predicted) the increased rate of reaching out and niceties just immediately and completely disappeared once the favor was done and the hand off was made.
A dear dear friend from all the way back in third grade writes “sorry for my late reply” (she’s notorious for this, weeks will go by with no response and then she’ll randomly face time me with seemingly no consideration for the time of day i’m in demanding entertainment) “you know the deal, work, sleep, repeat” she says.
So on and so forth, over and over. I wish there was a socially acceptable way to express to my friends that there’s no need for the niceties, for the pretentions, the half hearted apologies. I mean on average, every 12 minutes someone checks their phone. I saw a clip of this girl finding out she had 14 consistent hours of screen time a day . Just scrolling scrolling permanently staring at the screen. It wouldn’t take much to flick open the messages app and type up a response or an “i’ll get to it later” notice, but they don’t, and neither do I! I don’t know how many messages I’ve ignored in my recent depressive episode, though i suppose i have a decent excuse with that. When I get that way and I speak to anyone, the miasma of my sickness infects them too. It’s for their own good! ha!
I wish I could say it without them being offended, I just…
I just don’t care.
Shut yourself in, disappear, ignore my message, don’t tell me things, scroll all day.
You don’t need to apologize, I’m probably doing the same thing, it’s not terribly important to me. Certainly in the past but no longer
I really actually don’t care.
“about any of you”
I don’t think that’s true but the point stands.
7. I have a bad habit of frequently reaching out to people just to check in, just so see how you’re doing, just to say hello. It’s true! it’s earnest! and actually, it makes me feel very foolish that i do that considering anecdote number 6. I will no longer reach out! I will no longer initiate. I’m ready to let my friendships all wither and die.
i be coolin bra idc bout nun!
