i-hate-the-midwest

Who knew how delicious a fresh bar of soap, dirty hair, and illfitting brandy melville underwear would feel

I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

It's following. It's getting closer. The lights turn on. They flash red white and blue.

Stuck in the midwest now. Fuck the midwest. I hate the midwest. It's more torturous being edged with the sweet fortuitous prospect of going home for the past three days than it being told to me straight. This date. This time. No. Of course it will never be this easy. No one will ever be on the same page. No one will communicate. It's okay. It's the way of life. Its the dynamic. It wouldn't have been right if it went smoothly... Right?

GET ME OUt OF HERE

After humiliating myself since Sunday night making the biggest deal of my departure. In true me fashion throwing a going away party. NOT as good as the one I threw in New York (a blackout too many and much less cocaine)

"What are the chances you'll be coming into work tomorrow?"

"ONE HUNDRED PERCENT!"--I shouted sarcastically--"Actually make that fifty/fifty. If I don't come in tomorrow it's because I slit my wrists in the bathtub"

Oh great. I'm not leaving today.

Frantic pacing through the room. The thumps are in my chest, my stomach has dropped. Hyper fixate on the sound of his soccer game. The pressure builds up in my bladder. I clench myself. They need to leave. My thoughts are in disarray. Twelve minutes. That's it. You can hold off twelve minutes Sofia. Gripping the wall, I slide down to the floor. My knees tremble and click together rapidly. Eight minutes now. The running water calls my attention. I need to piss. Seven minutes to go and he's just now showering. Dirty hands. My hands are so dirty. I have thrift store all over them. I need to piss. I can't focus when I can feel them through the door.

My brother is in Pennsylvania. Hurry up. Please pick me up. Come. Save me from them. I hate it here. I can't stand one more day. Work is miserable. Three minutes. Please don't be late for work today. I have so much planned for the hour you're not here. You mess up my time if you don't leave on time. When you're gone I will pack everything. Ready to go. Shower. I haven't showered. I need to finish packing. Everything must be gone. I can't stand it here.

One minute and I hear the ball being kicked. Leave, please leave I beg of you. I hate you. You are awful. I hate you. You're ugly. Please leave. It's two o'clock. It's time to go. I just want to yell out. LEAVE. They're gone finally they're gone. I have so much planned without them here.

*              *              *

One hour and six minutes is what it took to pack my shit and dress myself. All black outfit today. It's pathetic. It's not chic like everyone makes it out to be. It's depressing. It reminds me of funerals. It's like wearing death on your sleeve.

I sat on my suitcase. My clothing doubled in size here.

Tomorrow I will wake unaware of the week ahead. No due diligence, no respect.

The bartender takes out a Yuengling from the cooler and points it at my direction

"Not today. Can I do eight green tea shots four on mine four on his"

Two shots, half a cheeseburger, and three fourths of a white russian later my name booms across the bar. I quickly down the rest of my white russian. The room began an uproar as I walked up. I clutched my trench coat and clung it close to my body.

I bring the microphone to my mouth and the opening guitar riff of Kiss begins to play

"...Euh"

"Guess how much"

"I don't know, thirty bucks?"

He hands me a receipt with a ninety three dollar charge. Coincidentally, the blurry vision of me signing the check was the last thing I saw before it all went black. I've never paid more than fifteen dollars at this bar.

"Ya pronto nos vemos!"

My mothers text messages glared onto my face as I buried my chin deeper into my green sheets and I felt my heartbeat pulse through the mattress.

My vision began to blur, my head began to pulse, my temples felt blue, and I started to feel the thumps in my chest as I laid on my bed looking into the screen of my laptop.

I knew he was coming but I guess I thought he would delay it further. I looked around the room, clothing clung to every surface. Bullshit goodwill purchases, ill-fitting depop orders, cans of sardines, ramen, empty takeout, empty packages, books in disarray.

The sun beamed down on me. The air was wet. My ill-flitting jeans kept riding down as my new sequined bag rubbed on the skin of my waist in between the gap of my ill-flitting jeans and my ill-flitting top. A woman walking towards me waves and stops me.

"I always see you walking you're so cute! Where are you always going?"

"Haha thanks! It depends on the day but I'm going to the goodwill right now"

"Well would you ever wanna go on a walk together? Do you live around here?"

"Ya I live above the dentist office on [REDACTED] St."

"Would you like a new friend? Give me your number."

I give this stranger my phone number

"I'm Sofia, what's your name?"

"Here I just texted you 'stopped you on the street to say hi' I'm Molly"

"Nice to meet you"

I've ran into this woman a few times. The first we ran into each other on our ways to and fro. On fro she said "YOU'RE SO CUTE". The second time I ran into her we were on opposite sides of the street. She waved at me. I was kind of confused as to who she was but I knew it could've only been her. The third time she stopped me.

GOD I'M SO FUCKING FAT TODAY

I went on

Instead of coffee I should've just drank water and gone to the library. Nausea has overtaken me. In the shower I felt hollow. Not in an oppressive way, or a depressed way, but in a way that the entire world was shifting around me and I stood in the middle motionless. My vision might just be blurry. Maybe my eyesight is going out. It makes my head hurt. This coffee didn't help. Why do I keep coming here? I hate it here. The coffee is bad. Why did order a "caramel brulee" latte? I hate syrup in my coffee. I can't focus if I lay in bed reading or writing. I needed to get out. The day is nice. I regret not leaving my house earlier.

I've worn this skirt for the past three days and I hand washed my Brandy Melville baby tee in the sink last night just in case I wanted to re-wear this shirt today. Ended up re-wearing the shirt. The soles on my jelly shoes have worn down and the sides are snapping. The buckle flats I bought at goodwill last week started to disintegrate. All of my shoes are in disarray.

If thats how the Malasyian boy looks walking down the street, God I must look retarded.

*              *              *

Once my elbows start going out just kill me. Why is everything on Sally's body puffy? She's not fat, quite the opposite, she's clearly a thin woman. I wonder if they were to cut open her leg it would be completely black with tar

-----

"You know he has a crush on you right?"

"No I didn't know that"

I could feel her get small and sink into herself. Did I make her uncomfortable?

Ohio is like being in an expansive Walmart.

*              *              *

After months of daily emails attempting to confirm my appointment and accept my waitlist position. I recieve an email to check in for my appointment. I assumed that

If eating is preserving our precious bodies existence, but there is no reason for existing

The Self-Taught man describes it as pessimism. A few months ago I told The Photographer that I thought we were born to live on an Earth of suffering. He didn't agree with me. A server whom I shared a similar sentiment the other week didn't reply to my statement. People don't really enjoy this kind of talk or perspective. I can't tell if it's because of self realization. I'm not unhappy, quite the opposite. I just think its a truth of life.

***

Since I have one week left
-Roughly
My goal is to finish at least three of these books I have pressing time with.

"That's so gay"

"It's a trend in China"

"You know what's also a trend?
Going to the Gym"

Did a 22 year old just learn to use the insult gay? It's not that i find it insensitive I just find it monotonous, infuriating and just plain retarded.

The funniest part is that he's fat. Maybe not to any normal standards but definitely to mine and New York's. He is in constant criticism of of bodies publicly.

At two in the morning one of the Macedonians brought back one of the workers in the kitchen home. Their loud voices carried through my door.

Does new York breed the worst people ever? Fashion obsessed. Affected by culture. Maybe Im too all knowing and thats my problem. If you are so smart you are dumb. So

What is with this notion of being invisible here in the midwest?

I'd be happier if I was an affectatious little boy. I found out on his last day, the South African boy who lives in Belgium, was the same age as me. He did this thing where, he wouldn't look me in my face.

Some days I have no desire to speak to anyone. Yesterday was one of them, today was well. I've been trying to reecount where I've gone a full day without speaking to the Macedonians. I can attest to yesterday but I wonder if there's been other days.

With them I can say I'm quite curious as to the truths in which they live their lives. I can say for certain that they sleep all day. I can't say what they talk about. One of them speaks very little english. He has big wide eyes and an even bigger nose. The other everyone calls handsome. Objectively I can attest that while yes he may have the essence of beauty. I see in the true ways he lives his life. The burps he spews as loud as he can, his overbite makes me uncomftorable. and the general dirtiness.

They do everything in their power to not look or speak to me directly. Only the handsome one replies when I make an attempt to speak to them. They work in the kitchen and I hear what they say. The comments and jokes that run about eachother, myself, and others. Much of it stemming along the lines of gay jokes.

Now I dont want to be quick to judge but I see how they live their lives. They don't do anything.

Relentlessly, I've been . I went to the cafe that serves terrible coffee which only has the essense and sprinkle of a coffee bean. The cafe felt like the better choice in contrast to the library without the comfort of my music.
I half regret my choice as children run around screaming and arguing while I try to concentrate on my laptop.

An older lady, after nibbling on her muffin and sipping her cortado comes up to me.

"Believe it or not, I used to be young just like them. You are going to be old- just like me.

Thats what I like telling young people" she said to me

I smiled

"Have a blessed day" She continued about her day and left the coffee shop.

The bell of the door rang

God believers in the midwest like saying goodbye with a blessing. Which I find interesting. Why the coorelation? Why a blessing? Why not just say good day?

I burst through the doors still high from my newfound lust for life in Ohio. Everyone else begins their affternoon arguing, cramming tables, and stealing chairs around the restauraunt.

"I'm really not interesting, I don't have anything important to say"

"Yeah you do, you have a good story.
A story of courage"

I couldn't decide whether I agreed with his words or found them mildly offensive (looking back both can be true) but I guess I took it in high regard insofar that a trumpist would find me admirable in any sense.

-------------

"Quick while she's gone, the new girl went into the coat closet and started sobbing" John jr whispered to me suddenly

*              *              *

120 dollars in tips weekend.

-12:04pm

I'm free. I think I've broken my curse. I've regained my sparkle. I'm free.

There's a sense of survival mode I've put myself into. I'm neither enjoying or disliking my Midwestern Malibu. But

I've barely left my room, equally my bed much except to urinate and eat breakfast (if you consider a kiwi a meal) when I received a call quarter till one.
Apparently I'm CLE stars golden child and I'm an "exemplary" figure to le restaurant insofar that my wrongdoings of taking le selfie on Mattieu's iPhone was so egregious.

I can confidently disavow any exemplary qualities attributed to me by le restaurant. Come to think of it I have half a tab of LSD that I was planning to take today on my day off. UGH I guess its too late

Relentless Sunday night. I clung myself on my stool waiting for Mattieu to finish his superfluous rounds around the tables.

At home ecstatic, on the floor, keeping myself busy. Half with no intent to go to Rudy's other half hoping someone would drag me with them. When the Macedonians left not inviting me, not even a smidge of thought towards me to even pop their heads in or yell out in my direction inquiring about my plans for the evening (a simple invite or heads up would have sufficed) Being left to my own devises, I traversed next door to find an empty saloon. The lingering cigarette smell and slightly propped door led me to peak my head in to find the Chinese man sitting in the arm chair in his underwear.

"Are they at Rudy's?" I asked

"Yes" he said in this thick accent.

I hate Ohio. I hate the Midwest. I hate the smell of the gross sweaty men in the living room that spend their days rolling around sleeping. I hate the taste in my mouth. I hate that I'm not able to go outside today. I hated that my shower smelled like fire and ash.

"I cant believe your Shhh's niece

I shrug

"Why?"