What is the measure of this (wo)man or beast? A number precedes a name, my birth certificate was issued at 4 years of age, but I had an SSN in two weeks. They call it “Enumeration at birth”. If names have power over us, and names are numbers by another name, then we can (ac)count all things. “Hazel” is 72 97 122 101 108, or “Raccoon” 82 61 63 63 157 157 156, which I think has a nicer consonance to it with the repetition. I was raised in Texas under storms that last for days. I was raised by two children whose year numbers had outgrown them. I was raised by a cabal of retired special forces who took over the local scout troop and put a back pack full of rocks larger than I was on my back. It was so big I had to lie down on my back to strap into it and I learned how to roll onto my side to stand up. My dad took a job as a teacher to transfer us across school districts to the rich kid school so I could rub shoulders with pretty girls who went on skii trips and eat dirt for lunch so they didn't realize we qualified for the school lunch program. I woke up at 5 am to ride with my dad when he set up the gym for before school practice at 7. I went to bed at 2am when the screaming finally died down enough for me to fall asleep in the closet. I burnt out at 15 years old working 35 hours a week after school full with all AP classes because my parents didn't really understand what class mobility meant. I burnt out 2 more times before I finished college, the last one leaving me with seizures and epilepsy so I could pay my own tuition. I graduated in the covid years when they finally were okay with my never showing up to class. I graduated with debt for the tuition I couldn't work to pay off in those last years. My parents sent me a bill for the groceries they bought me.
I did my first injection in the backyard of some girl i met on lex while her roommate smoked meth on the back porch. It was a beautiful day out. She broke it up into two shots, and she made me do the second one while she watched. I bought her a steam bun to say thank you.
When it all got to be too much, I ran away to Florida to be homeless for a while. After a few months, my aunt let me pay her a thousand dollars a month to live in a little burnt down shack in the swap she owned. I brought a girl down from Missouri. We got mugged by a dog a homeless man had trained to steal wallets. My aunt evicted us the last month of the lease when we were 3 days late on the rent. Florida really was a magical place.
I drove across the country to make my pilgrimage when that happened. I took a cat we found in the swamp. I dropped the girl off on the street in Seattle. She died immediately. I went to Oregon. We worked on a pot farm with 2 other trans girls and split one hotel room. We saved up for a week for a trip to macdonalds. It was stupid. I made us leave. I started smoking cigarettes to prove a point.
For the next two years we lived as an agent. We made reality happen. We were deployed. I landed cutting edge research jobs from the street. I used the offer letter to qualify for an apartment and never called them back. I landed another one in walking distance a week later. I was just tired of driving.
I was young and pretty and I learned how to lie. They deployed me on missions. I went to Michigan to hang out with a cult. I found the girl and I drove her up to Chicago with 10 thousand dollars of cult money. She went back 3 months later when the money ran out. I went to SF to squat in a group house. They spent more money on rent there than my parents made in 5 years. I climbed onto the roof and watched the stars. I made someone give me a job. I had to do my own hiring paper work. I decided I should make 6 figures.
I died later on. Not from any of my missions, but from my own team. The nature that makes you special often makes you brittle. She went screaming. I wasted away.
A friend pulled me out. I walked around the city for days when I slept on her couch. She gave me some money, and I got a place. It was not a nice place. I was retired. My neighbors shot each other. I couldn't sleep well there for the noise.
I left that mind behind. I started over, no reads, no operating. I decided to trust someone again. I did ketamine. I dated the most bpd boy on the planet. I should not have trusted him. It was nice to be retired.
I went through some sillier jobs. I got a quiter place. I was writing code more now. Game dev. Drawing pictures. I tried to date the same boy again. It went exactly the same. Everything was in its place. I moved again. I moved again again.
I live in the mystery house now. There's no rent here. We have marble counter tops and big beautiful windows. My cat likes the balcony. I decided its time to be an actual person. I walk around the city with my friends. I send texts to cute girls that send me pictures of dead bodies back. It's good that I can trust them. I'm trying to get a normal job this time. It turns out it's really hard to get a normal job. I've been getting good at baking lately. I live with the dead girl I knew from Florida. Its nice she turned out okay too. The bald spot from the gunshot has healed over. Its right on the part of my hair, so its like it never really happened. I saw my sister a few weeks ago and that was nice. She's allergic to water now I guess. Its summer in seattle. The thunder rattles the sky, but it only lasts a few hours. I go for walks in the rain. The blackberries will be ripe soon. Im planning to make a pie.