she’d lock me in the room and i wasn’t allowed to come out until i’d memorized the times tables.

Summer ‘22

We’re in my bedroom talking.

“I always thought, if I was going to kill myself, I’d fast for a few weeks, drink nothing but water so that when I die my body doesn’t shit itself. I’d shave all my hair and make myself very clean, to make the autopsy process as easy as possible for them.”

They gave me that look. The one that made me feel like I was finally seeing who they were deep down, not the mask or character they play for the outside world.

They made a comment like “you really are my twin”. Something to that effect. They’d had the same plan.

Summer ‘23

I’ve thrown away all but one spoon, one fork, one knife. I’ve started to clean my apartment as thoroughly as possible. It’s still very empty. I don’t want to leave any work for the people that have to clean up after me was the thought process.

Very considerate, very polite of me, even in death.

12x12 is 144. I always struggled with that one for some reason, screwed up at the last moment, every time.