text: I’m leaving the VA with a bandage around my arm and a mask over my face and I’m thinking, What was the point? I was in there for... three hours? They drew piss. I bled in a cup. We played that little word game we always play where they ask, “Are you thinking about harming yourself or others?” “Know, and know,” I said. It’s what I always say. Because I know they’ll know the truth, if they just pay attention. Yes and no. No and yes. Sometimes. Not always. Not now. Earlier though, and definitely later, no doubt about it. But I don’t say that. Because they didn’t ask the right way. Ask the right questions and you’ll earn the answers I have left to give. See? It's a game. You get it. I’m good at giving directions. But you can’t say that stuff in there. Even if they ask. Especially if they ask. It’s a test. It’s a game. And you wanna pass, right? You don’t wanna lose? I can tell you do. I can tell you don’t. That’s why you turned around, just now. I saw you looking at me, thinking the same thing I was thinking, Pass me, please just pass me . At least, I think you were thinking that. Don’t worry, I can’t read minds, not anymore. Not since they put me in a gown and grippy socks. That was forever ago. Now, I punch pillows since their pills pull punches. Welp. There it is. I said it, didn’t I? Or I might as well have. Yeah. I haven’t been taking them. You caught me. Are you working for them? You have to tell me if I ask, ya know? You gonna check under my tongue? AHHHH. Just kidding. But seriously, they can’t check under your tongue at your apartment. Mine either. So yeah, back to that other thing. The thing you were thinking about a second ago. When I said I can’t read minds, what I meant was I’m not the one doing the reading. They’re actually read to me , like a book on tape. That’s what happened with you, just now. Someone read your thoughts out loud, it wasn’t me, but I heard them because I couldn’t help it. Pass me, please just pass me. Pass you what? I don’t have anything. What more do you want? I already gave you my piss and my blood and you’ll get no more tears from me. Tears not tears, like the kind you might find in a diary. Past, pass, we pass, you pass, and I pass after we pass in the past. Puff puff pass, each other and the tests and the page. I did it, and so did you. The past thing. Then, I turned around, and so did you. The passed thing. Is it destiny? Is it worth pursuing? What’s your name? I’m not making a pass . I am the past. You are. We are. Does it feel weird yet? No, not this. The words. Of course this feels weird. I mean the words feel weird. I mean, the world feels weird. Words of the world are weird when they don't feel real, I fear. Sometimes I lose myself in them. The words. You know what I mean? It happened earlier with “pass” because we were saying it a lot. And even earlier with “know”. And just now, again, with “know”. You know... when I said it, the word “know”, in the last sentence, and even in the one before the last one, and even this one, it feels weird. But it felt especially weird in the last last sentence, no, I mean the last last last sentence, because it was, or is, technically, sitting so close to the word “now”. See? Because “now” is inside “know” and “no” is inside “now” and “know”, but “no” doesn’t sound like “know”, when it’s inside “now”. It sounds like “ow”. And now you know, no? What? You wanna go inside now? Well go. But I’m not going, I just came from there. Where do you think I got this bandage around my arm? Why do you think I’m wearing this mask on my face? But also, I’m not talking to you, VA parking lot man, and I haven’t been for a while. Right now, I’m talking to the readers I have left. MY READERS. What do you mean? They’re right here. Of course you can’t see them. No I can’t see them either. Because they’re in the future. But they’re the ones I’ve been talking to this whole time. Well OK, you got me there. Sure. I’m talking to you now, technically, VA parking lot man, but I wasn’t just a second ago. I was talking to them. You, Readers. Not him. Sorry, he keeps butting in. NO! NOT YOU, VA PARKING LOT MAN! THEM! I KNOW I’M TALKING OUT LOUD! HOW ELSE ARE THEY GOING TO HEAR ME? Hold on, I’ll get back to you in a second, Readers, let me deal with this psycho who just stopped me in the parking lot. STOP! What are you doing!? Why are you pulling out your phone? You shouldn’t walk backwards in a parking lot. What? I’m not following you? Why are you recording me? Come back here. Whoa. We’re inside now. When did that happen? Why are you crying? You’re fine. We’re fine. We’re fine! Everything is fine! This idiot just keeps trying to read my mind! What do you need a GUN for, officer? Stay back!! Tell them to get back! They’ll listen if they think the thoughts are their own! Was that your idea or mine? I don’t know why I’m shaking. Is it you? Is it me? Are we cold? You’re in my head, but are you in my body? Readers, is he in there with you? With us? Hello? Tell them what I’m thinking, Readers, they’ve been dying to know. What? KNOW. Not no! NO! No one is dying today. I... I don’t know why I thought that. I feel weird. The words are getting weird. The world is getting weird. I’m lost again. Everyone is panicking. I hear explosions. I hear crying. I hear screaming. There are teeth in my lies. There's no blood to my pain. There are bullets in my memories and bombs in my brain. How did we get here? How long ago was the parking lot? When did they sketch my blood? When do we play our game? Hello? He’s gone. We’re back in the VA parking lot. We’re standing in front of the drivers side window of our car, staring at a man with an arm around his bandage and face over his mask. I take it off. He takes it off. We hear alarms. We hear sirens. “You doing alright, son? Get the help you need?” A voice calls out from the other side of the world. Or maybe the other side of the car. Or maybe the other side of the window. Doesn’t matter much. Because we’re alone now. It’s just you, and me, and us, and our reflections. “Know, and know,” I say. It’s what I always say.