Last night I was reading something weird about how “culture and metaphor” can’t conceive of our mother’s genitals and that’s what gives men power? And now I’m thinking about alienation from labor and alienation from labor.
Three years ago or something I went to a palm reader with my ex and she said I was an alien and something true about how my ex (who was sitting right there, rapt and eager) was crappy to me and I think she was the real deal. I like shrugged and smiled and nodded. I just had my last day at my job that that same ex works at too and I’m burning my first real bridge and it’s exciting and scary.
Anyways I don’t talk to my mom a lot, but I might see her at the end of summer for my sister’s wedding. I was reading that thing at that same sister’s house in Harlem, both our beaus were out of town, and it was so nice to be there with her.