Plastic Hope

This world is useless and the sooner everyone allows that fact to sink in, the sooner everything will be better. Accept that nothing will change. Accept that not one thing will work in your favor. Just accept that you will die. Accept that your mother will soon be buried six feet under with the worms and the maggots living off her body. Your father will be slid into a furnace and burnt to ashes. Soon there won’t be a difference between the man’s ashes who dressed as Santa Claus to give you a brand new puppy, and the ashes belonging to the man who was responsible for the massacring of Jews. Your life means nothing and no one can save you. The plastic Jesus on your dashboard will never lift a finger. His plastic smile will never falter.

I’ve accepted that my life is worthless. I’m much happier now. I no longer toss and turn all night with countless worries racking my brain. No more ‘what ifs’ keeping me up at night. I wish that I had known this when I was six and afraid to sleep at night. Afraid that when I woke up, everyone that I loved would be gone to me forever. Six years old and my fear was that everyone would stop seeing me.

I’ve made a breakthrough. I just don’t care anymore.

Wouldn’t it have been easier this way? When your first boyfriend in Jr. High School broke your heart by sticking his tongue in the cheerleader’s bulimic mouth. Wouldn’t it have been so much simpler if you hadn’t cared?

My first breakthrough was when my father rang to tell me that my mother killed herself. He waited until the next day to tell me. She filled the bathtub, put in some sweet smelling bubble bath, washed up, had candles lit…it was apparently the perfect bath. She shaved her legs and than slit her wrists with the razor. I’m told that it takes some time to break the skin with a Bic razor. My mother always did have an endless amount of patience. I didn’t cry. The news of what she did, it didn’t bring forth any tears.

After my father told me that I would never see my mother again, there’s brief silence until I asked, “What kind of candles?”

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