I'm trapped

Stuck at home

Lost in my mind

Oh my

Someone died again

Oh no

I guess this is normal then

We never met

They never saw my face

But it's sad

So very sad

Such disgrace

A bird

Fly so happily in the sky

Oops...

It died

Oh no

It's falling

The sky falls once more

I don't know what's causing

Midnight

Oh my goodness

Clowns

Clowns are back!

Oh no

They wear a mask

A child walks up for a hug

The child is gone

The clown is gone

The only noise is bugs

It's midnight

Oh no

no no

Poor poor creature

It's last breath

It's so warm now

So so warm

I think we all know how

It's so cold

So so cold

A bird again, falls from the sky

It has died

Poor poor thing

Another falls

And another

The sky falls

And again

And again

And again

And then once more

It was a rainy Tuesday afternoon. The Gunnisons were uptight folks. They always ate breakfast at 8 o’ clock sharp, they headed to their mundance office jobs and worked from precisely 9 am-5 pm, and then they came home. Mr. Ted Gunnison was an accountant. His wife, Malice Gunnison, was a secretary.

The two of them treated their marriage as if it was merely a business arrangement: he gave her a peck on the lips before he left. They both went to work. They came home, watched the Wheel of Fortune, and went to bed.

One Tuesday, when it was raining, Mr. Gunnison thought that he saw a man holding a wand, which was odd: he looked to be in his early fifties, and there was no way someone who was mentally stable would be waving around a stick thinking it was a wand. His brows were furrowed as he was driving home. When he arrived to his place of residence, he learned that his wife had seen a woman wearing a crimson red cloak, which she found quite odd: she looked to be in her late thirties and, therefore, far too old for childish games. The couple decided to take the next day off. They must be going insane.

Mr. Gunnison visited his counselor, but, when he was waiting in the hallway, he discovered that a few people were wearing crimson cloaks and holding wooden sticks in their hands, acting as though these were wands.

How odd.

He thought to himself. When he visited his counselor, the man was wearing a green cloak and explained to him, quite matter-of-factly I must add, how he was so happy to finally be accepted for being a wizard. Mr. Gunnison left the man’s office as quickly as possible and drove home, perplexed.

He and Malice were locking themselves inside until this nonsense was over.

Tequila, a potion to cure the most classic of ailments: sobriety. White sand beaches to feel more whole in your whiteness; with a little lime and salt, you can have it all.

Mexico. Like something my sister said after my breakup: you need a resort vacation. You need a drink.

She couldn’t have meant seven shots of Patron.

48 hours after failing a sobriety test I am feeling like your basic drunk white girl in time out. I can’t remember the last two days. The abuelo in the jail cell next to me is muttering an insincere repentance to an uninterested policia.

Here, all I wanted was a reprieve.

My boyfriend, a Spanish heartbreaker, had said: you are la chica mas aburrida he had ever met. All because I wanted a family and a future together.

But aren’t we all basic in wanting such things?

I was beginning to notice that Spanish flips their language, noun before adjective. In this case, presenting me as a woman and then punishing me with a slap.

I can feel the effects of the hangover already; there needs to be more to life than just boys and booze and being beaten down. I want to say I’ve learned a life lesson, but I’m still as blanca as the tequila. I’m just adding salt to wound; white, washed up, wasted. Basic.

So...I'm in Mexico, I think. I got so hung over last night with my friends, then everything went black, and now I'm...behind bars?

What exactly did I do? Don't ask me.

I've been going through a nasty divorce back in California. My husband of forty years (Yes, forty years!!) just cheated on me. The nerve.

Now, I'm out here in jail doing God knows what. I had to go to Mexico to get my head on straight and get away from that fool and I think I'm still in the country. Jesus, I hope I'm still in the country.

"Ms. Shennanigans?"

"Yes."

"Lisa's just bailed you out."

Thank God for Lisa.

I think.

She's an angel...

I sit here behind bars for a few minutes longer, before she marches in, puts her hands on her hips, whips her blonde hair intimidatingly, saying, "Ms. Shanninagans. You should have known not to sleep with the bartender! He also owns a strip club down the street and his dad is a police officer so, of course, that man catches everyone who's drinking too much, puts them behind bars for a grueling 36 hours, and makes a big fat paycheck off of it. I can't believe you!"

I roll my eyes.

"I know. I know. It's just that, ever since Ted divorced me-"

She tapped me on the shoulder and looked at me like I was a student who was misbehaving.

"Stop with Ted! Shut up about Ted! We're here because you wanted to get away from that snake, okayyy!"

I nodded a lot very fast and my heart skipped a beat.

Was this me? Was I acting this crazy? Jesus Christ...I used to be a lawyer and a mother. Do you know how much skill and organization it takes to pull that off. Not anymore. Ted had to stomp all over my soul....That piece of shit.

"Okay, pull yourself together Julie, pull yourself together."

I am literally going to kill my mother for marrying a guy with the last name Shenninagansand my father for having the last name, Shenninagans.

I'm so glad I'm out of jail now. I'm going to have some more margharitas. Not too many, don't worry. Just enough to take the edge off.

Oh ouch it hurts badly. Mom what are you doing? Oh please why are you kicking me???? Hey you are not my mom. Who are you? What are you doing in my room??? Mom mom where are u???

OK that's a wicked laughter. My mom would have shot that basturd for such a loud laughter but why is he still alive? Has he done something to her? Oh my God! What have you done to my mom???

Here lies a giant wrestler with a scratchy personality and scary tattoo. (Again laughter)

I am losing it. I am so scared that I can't even control my pee. I am barely managing it. The last memory of last night was my mom saying goodnight to me in my room in my homeland. But now I am sitting in a jail with a monster who is definitely not a native guy. What has happened to me??? Where am I??? The nasty monster is now laughing whole-heartedly and suspiciously eyeing my jeans. His husky voice sounded like he is drunk but his answer that I am in a Mexican jail is now making me lose my mind.

Have I travelled time?? Is there actually something like a time machine that Julia used to rant about?? Oh no Julia. Shit it must be her curse. Oh no I just cheated on her last night with Shelley. Yah.definitely this must be the case. mom has always said that she is a witch. I guess she is right like always. I just felt a hand on my bottom. Hey what are you doing? Apparently the Mexican monster is into guys. I am done now. How am I gonna save myself. Argh. I just lost it.

The jail is now wet now and the monster is still laughing but this time his eyes on the wet liquid around my jeans.

I woke up, yawning, and noticed that I had quite a bit more hair on my arms. I thought that was unusual, so I strolled down to the bathroom to look in the mirror. I jolted. My reflection was that of a man with a short haircut staring back at me.

I figured I didn't have to worry about my looks anymore. It was about my personality, my intellect, and my wit, so I just threw on a t-shirt and jeans, then put on my socks and sneakers.

I thought I might go fishing this afternoon. Everyone would just assume I could cast, and no one would objectify me, so this really was a great opportunity. I wondered how long it would last.

The next day, I grabbed my gun and went hunting. Again, no one batted an eye. I shot a buck, came back home, and skinned it. I hung it up for four days, and, to my surprise, I was still a man when it was ready to cook.

I invited my friends over. My girlfriends were rather impressed and my guy friends kept ribbing me, saying I could do a better job but it was still pretty good. I figured they were probably just jealous.

Friday night, I decided to go to a party. I bought myself a suit and tie with my two guy friends, Mark and Lukas, and we made sexist jokes about getting laid the entire time we were shopping. They were much funnier when I wasn't a woman.

I went to the party and fucked three chicks. No one thought I was easy. No one thought I was a slut. The women all said I was quite handsome. Sarah got a bit attached and said that she thought I loved her and I apologized, saying maybe I would if we hung out more, but I just wasn't sure yet, which seemed to turn her on even more. Being a guy was so much easier.

My reputation was better instead of worse. No one judged me. In fact, the guys just congratulated me and bought me more drinks. I went to work at the firm and the lawyers I'd been working with forever, who were all men, suddenly thought that my ideas were absolutely brilliant, even though they'd simply dismissed my extremely similar ideas the week before when I was a woman. I was even up for a raise, and learned that women were indeed paid 80 cents to the dollar at this particular company. I was making significantly more than I used to. I wished that I could be a man forever.