It Eventually Gets Around To Tonya

I couldn’t remember much, so I thought I would just write, anything. I guessed at some of the topics, and I suppose I did get some of it right, but mostly I just pretended I was writing, while everyone else really was. Then at the end of class I turned it in…There were many problems with the settlers, like with proper communication. As John Philip Sousa said, “It is ye who play the Snouzlaphone who shall lead them.” And it was believed that several of the men were lost in the scramble. “Sign here,” he said, “And the treat shall be yours.” Well, they signed. It was an easy task, putting away Diet Pepsi Vanilla and a bottle of Walker Red and a bottle of Walker Black, too, like that in one hour. Making graphs of Bibles and faces. To compensate for the fear of a good boy. Listing strings of numbers that I am not going to list here. But you can just imagine, you know, lots of numbers being written out here. I am calm. I am feeling okay. There is no need to worry. Just relax. Slow down and take it easy man. Take a deep breath and let it out. They might want to hear about it when it’s all over. That’s it. You’re OK. You are doing fine, Jess. Everything is going smoothly. Everything is going to be alright now. Think to yourself for a while. This is a good day. Things will really actually work out, you know. Think about those people you were reading about. Think about how well they handled things. Yes, I am one of those people. I am one of them. Yes! It doesn’t matter too much which garbage can you get into and root around in. It doesn’t matter too much whose potter’s wheel you get mashed all up in. Gosh it’s cold in here. It’s about time to be getting this fucking thing finished. Oh, I’m feeling nervous, and with an allergic response. Better write some more. It’ll make you feel better. Maybe I can go back to Fresno again soon, and visit Joanne. Oh, I wonder how she’s doing. I used to live in Fresno, down the block from the Pistachio Shop. Where they only sold pistachios. And even though I’ve been in there, I’ve still never eaten a pistachio. Shells are too complicated. Hard. I like to eat things that have rinds, not shells. And I like to eat many rinds. You can’t eat a shell. Unless they’re ground into a powder I guess. And then you could brush the powder onto your body after a bath. Strange girl. Always had lots of birds, and the mother was weird too. So was the stepdad, Sonny. Remember Tonya? Tonya Toybuster my dad called her. Because she would break any toy. And smear salsa on her brother’s face. You know, when I take a deep breath I feel better. But only as long as that breath lasts. And then I have to try to depend on another one. I remember seeing Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid at Shakey’s pizza parlour on an 8mm film reel, where I rode a mechanical animal, as Tonya emerged from a moving van; the door scrolled up and there she was, standing with other people who were standing also. That was the first time I ever heard the word, “adult”. Tonya had broken the part of my crane that went up and down. I forgive her, yeah, it’s just that she made such an impression on me. Her face looked like she was always smiling, but in kind of a mushed up way. Her hair was parted in the middle and strapped back to the back of her head in two braids with yarn, and the braid were the kind that were super far apart. Her mom never looked at us, she was always watching game shows on TV, and smoking. Tonya one time smeared salsas on my mouth, but he didn’t cry. I say “he” because it was like I wasn’t in body that one time. I told Tonya’s mom that I would throw up if I ate the lunch she had made. She told me I HAD to eat it or I would be punished. I ate it, right there in the kitchen, then I threw up, on the table. All I could think of to say was, “What are these?”, pointing at some gourd she had on the table, that was next to my vomit of meatloaf. I still don’t understand gourds. And she gave me some answer that was not at all what I felt I was needing to hear. She told my mom that I had thrown up all my lunch, and my mom asked if it was meatloaf or baloney, and Tonya’s mom said yeah, it was meatloaf. “He won’t eat meatloaf. It makes him sick. He hates it.” You can tell a kid to do it, but if doing it takes more effort than the kid is able to do, you can’t REALLY make him do it. Do it now. Lord, please help me find something good for my little belly. My pain is far behind me. In seven years your body will be replaced by a new one. A different one I guess, I don’t know. With coffee there is no romance just something followed by God knows what. Does coffee make you live long? Don’t anybody try to show me a crystal. I hate them. I wish I could say nicer words, but even if I could say nicer words, I’m sure it will probably be the moment when I finally cry. I don’t want to dream

.