Superstition ...

It use to have seven flowers now it's down to three!

Let me preface this post by saying to all my family and friends, it ain't you, it's me. 

When I was a kid, I avoided stepping on cracks, I shit you not, I had already lost one parent and I wasn't going to be held responsible for breaking the remaining parents' back. I was a mess, I'm still a mess, as evidenced by my heightened superstition, among many other things. It didn't help my situation that I had a witchy mom, she'd have dreams and keep me from school because of what happened in said dreams. But you know what really didn't help? When I went to school the next day and learned the school bus I was suppose to be on, was in an accident. Yeah, this is where my superstition stems from.

As you can imagine or maybe not, every morning when my mom wakes up in my apartment and tells me she's had a dream, I can feel the air getting sucked out of the room:

"Keken (my pet name, don't try to pronounce it, you'll surely fuck it up) I make a dream last night."

 "oh yeah..."

At this point my mother will proceed to tell me her dream, which interestingly enough are always good, since, well, you know. I listen and walk away able to breathe again. But it isn't just my mom anymore. What's up with all these other folks dreaming about me?! shit is getting scary.

It's not cool to have this illness and be superstitious, I see signs everywhere. I got these little houseplants from a friend, surely enough I started freaking out when they died; oh no death is all around me what do I do?! Forgetting that I never had a green thumb, I could kill some dead shit. Now, some five dollar plants die and I'm saying my Hail Marys. I'm watching my orchid like a hawk, the flowers started falling off but there not all gone. I'm going to need them to stay that way, at least until my next scan.

You know when shit gets murky, when you start getting texts like;

you've been on my mind. 
I had a dream about you. 
I can't stop thinking about you

Oh no! my soul is making little journeys to the mind of my friends and family. shit, I'm already gone! 

I explained this to my therapist yesterday and she paused. She usually tells me how normal most of my behavior is given what I'm going through but yesterday, she paused and gave me that long, you've lost your mind look;

"Maybe you should think things out, maybe your friends are dreaming and thinking about you because like anyone would be in this situation, they're hoping for the best for you..."


She made it sound so simple. Does she not know what I'm working with here? does she not know the grim reaper is fucking around with my PlayStation 3?! I acknowledged her theory could be a possibility but deep down I still felt some kind of way about my growing popularity in the sub basements of my friends consciousness.

Post therapy I decided to take a long walk in the city. I was trying to find a bookstore (a dinosaur in these times) and on my way got lost but walked past a Sephora; where I remembered I needed lip tint, so, I got some. I made my way to Soho to grab lunch at a spot I love and on my way to it, I stumbled on a heart etched in the sidewalk concrete. Finally, when I get to the lunch spot and order my food, the owner and man at the register offers me everything free, if I'll let him take a picture of me for his Instagram! I'm looking for the bad signs meanwhile God keeps hurling good ones at me.

Hopefully God can help me not hyperventilate when someone says they thought of me. Good grief !