Self-denial… i practiced it for years. I realize I get set back like anyone, all the time, and it’s painful trying to fall up into the goodness of affirmational living, but it’s worth the effort once you get there, self-crystallizing and shining again amidst your purpose on this hot spinning earth… I think it’s funny over scrambled eggs and patty sausage in a booth at my favorite lucky American diner to be across from a new friend whom I really love, listening attentive as you try to read my cards back to me… but it gets harder when you tell me who I am and what I need. I have been depressed since the day you met me, as though it were news. I remind you ima fucking depressive, okay, you just cannot take some things off like clothes, but are you so sure it’s a crime in the making of taking my life from me with my permission, as samsara goes — are you really gonna go there? yes you are — and you know, I got those butterflies in my stomach immediately, like we do, seeing the truth there and deciding to come to terms with my anger around it. Oh! to absorb how someone honestly sees you. Full well knowing it’s brilliant for anyone to take a risk and share how they feel, and celebrating this rather than pushing it away like you wanna. Especially a new friend whose got that courage, thank you. I thank you… and I categorically reject your attempts to tell me who I am and what I need. And it’s okay that you would wanna tell me, because I do know that you only wanna help anyone and yourself and why not me, sure, of course, and you are more than a decade my senior and quite a professional from what I understand, a state worker, a really nice lady who loves women, not unlike me who loves women and men even if I don’t trust most of them, and a high energy consciousness here in this booth electrified with boisterous argument. This is good. This is beat. This is more of what I want in the world, I think. Challenge my ass, sweetheart. This is my impression of you. And you are impulsive and perhaps insensitive with others whom you hope to understand. And that’s okay, too, please, be that way with me! Make those mistakes for me to absorb and reflect and correct. It helps me to see the deep rootedness which causes my categorical defiance of anyone and your guesswork on me. I am no stranger to myself today. But I only know it cause I was lost for so long. I had to get lost to find myself and my heart and my spirit and my passion and my obsessiveness. And here it is, again, staring me in the face and demanding I walk it down twenty-first street and pink-colored dogs behind plate glass windows and a belly full of coffee and write it down!