random1

            Why do I feel like I'm so undeserving of love? The last syllable of that thought barely brushed the tip of my cerebrum when a message lit up my phone like a REZZ concert.
            "Are you up? Busy?
             Alive? jkjk But I miss you," my sister texts. She's not my biological sister; we've just known each other for eight years and been through some heavy shit together. When you're 24, that's a minute. The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. I know she's trying to make me laugh but also check in on me and see if I'm okay. When I fall off the Earth, people that love me know I've fallen off.
            "I've been going through A Time™ lately.... I'm sorry," I reply with the quickness.
            "Don't be sorry. I been busy as shit the past few weeks. My first day off was Wednesday and I spent half the day doing laundry :("
            "I just go through these manic phases where I want to publish a book that becomes an American classic & is taught in schools or become a DJ that travels the world and makes people happy with my music but then I'm like, oh lovey... you're not meant to be Somebody, silly..."
            "Dude, how do you think I feel with the name my mama gave me?" Roberta Star. My eyes squint and my mouth opens real wide and I laugh. She's got me there. I see that she's writing some more, but I just put my phone down and I stare off into space. Literally my eyes are settled on my altar situated on my dresser: two Buddha statues (one corpulent, one emaciated), a tiny bust of Nefertiti, a crystal ball on an orange mount I bought on the internet, the tarot deck that's lived with me for seven years, a cheap incense holder, and writing stones among other offerings. But that's not where I am. My mind is consistently delving through alternate histories, scenarios, and universes.