Mangrove Cemetery. So that’s what this place is called. I couldn’t see the sign when I came here that night with Liam. I like Moonlit Park better.
I need to be alone for a while before this interview today. Just me and my notebook. This thing with Becca this week freaked me out. How I thought I’d lost her. It’s funny how just imagining life without someone you care about can make you appreciate things more. I can’t imagine what I’d do if I lost either one of my parents. Even Max, Phil, or J. C., for that matter.
Look at all these graves. There are people buried under here. Well, the remains of people anyway. I wonder if any of them took their own lives. I wonder if any of them felt invisible, like they could disappear for a few days and no one would notice.
Isn’t it weird how we come into this life, and everybody goes gaga over us, showering us with attention, taking endless photos, video, and all that? Then some years go by, and well, you’re just not as cute or interesting anymore, and people just stop paying attention? Why bother recording? It was only funny when she did it the first time. Weird, right, how some people can just stop caring like that?
That’s how Becca feels sometimes, like nobody cares about her. I have to remind her every day if necessary. That I do care. That she’s my best friend. Not some leech.
What a beautiful day, after having dismal rain all week long. The ground’s still wet, brown leaves plastered into mush everywhere. The smell of rotting foliage, dampness in the air. From this bench the cemetery grounds look a bit like the countries on a globe, green and brown patches. Well, if you blur your vision really, really hard, it does. I guess if you blur your eyesight hard enough, you can see anything you want.
Flesh, lead singer of Crossfire, is a god? Okay, if you say so. Jessie loved you? Sure, why not? Marie was a trusted friend? Of course she was. That’s what we all wanted to believe, so it became real. We think whatever we want to think, to stay happy and calm. I guess reality’s really nothing but our own version of the truth, right?
And what is the truth? My truth, anyway? Adriana’s going to ask what it’s been like in my situation. What should I say, that my life sucks? That having two parents who love me is really the crappiest thing that could happen to someone? How horrible it’s been having a name like Desert that sets me apart from all the Billys and Amys out there? That my life’s been hell, when other people, like Becca, dream of nothing but the life I have? Sometimes I forget what I’m fighting for. What am I fighting for?
I don’t know if I can do this anymore.
Blur my eyes and faces change
Loving smiles to frightening grins
Squint hard enough and grasses turn
From palest lime to greens that burn
I blur my eyes and people seem
However dark or bright I deem
I am a victim, I am a muse
I am whatever role I choose.