(Beginning draft)
I had another bad day,
And now,
After the only close friend I been seeing in person getting mad at me for being too sensitive..,
After picking up family friends from the airport, While looking for parking,
I’m in the passenger’s seat while my mom is driving,
..,
With the hope of meeting the family friends we dropped off at a Middle Eastern cafe who are visiting,
Emotions in me are building,
My mom decides to give me medication,
So I don’t get into dangerous trouble,
If I get triggered..,
And because I’m having another hard day,
I tell her I wish I didn’t come,
Feeling that once again,
I’m making stuff hard for others,
Yet,
She reassures me,
That it’s not me,
That we’re all trying to have patience,
Evidently..,
Etc, etc..,
We continue looking for parking,
I talk,
I vent,
My mom reminds me,
Repeatedly,
Of the need to have patience,
We get horns honked at us constantly,
Since it’s..
New York City,
Yet,
While I’m struggling to manage while feeling deeply upset,
A guy on a motorcycle,
Who pulls up behind our slow moving car,
BLASTS HIS ENGINE!!
Then I jump and was like..
“What the!!?”
Then my mom is like..
“Zach!!”
And I’m like..
“Definitely a gang member,”
And my mom’s like,
“You don’t know that”,
And as I see him driving up in the passenger side view mirror,
I panic,
Say something like..,
“He’s got a gun!!”
Then I ducked while covering my head,
And then while he passed I realized,
That a woman was holding onto him..,
And that was when,
I really started to hate him,
So I said something so bad,
I said something so OUT of alignment with my truth,
That I don’t want to mention here,
And then that was when my mom said,
“We’re driving home”,
So now,
Because I believe the motorcyclist,
Had to blast his engine,
To have my mom drive faster,
And to impress his girlfriend,
And because I instantly reacted the way I did,
And said what I said,
I feel like I ruined stuff once again,
I feel others are mad at me,
And regardless of however they may be struggling,
I still..,
Especially in that moment,
Wished I was them,
Such as the young motorcyclist,
and not me,
So..,
I wish I was that guy on the motorcycle,
Who blasted his engine to try to impress (what I believe to be) his girlfriend,
Even though that made me lose control of my emotion,
And deepened my inner painful frustration,
He had to “rev”,
Or..,
BLAST his engine,
Which sparked in me,
Or I guess,
Caused me to INSTANTLY,
Lose even more control of my emotion,
And seeing his girl,
Made me get even more mad and sad,
Because nice guys such as myself,
“Finish last”,
So now,
I really feel reminded,
Of my damaged,
Unaccessed and unsustained,
Confidence,
Even though I was having a bad day,
As I expected,
We were honked at constantly,
And I was doing better controlling myself,
Yet that encounter,
Really made me lose my shit,
And made me feel so much more,
Like an unlikable piece of shit..,
I’ll repeat it:
Because before I been struggling to control myself..,
Because he had to blast his engine for his selfish arrogant reasons,
I lost more control of my difficult emotion,
And now feel even worse,
Because I really felt I made my mom feel worse,
And (as I assumed) probably our family friends who are visiting,
Which..,
(Aside from how I was before),
Just really..,
Immensely,
Got set off,
By a man who blasted his motorcycle engine at us,
Which created a harder,
Emotional chain reaction,
Because (as repeated) he had to impress his girlfriend,
So..,
I now feel another need to post obsessively,
Such as how others make me feel shitty,
And even though it’s the city,
Even though what he did was so MINOR according to me,
It triggered a lot of painful memories,
And/or,
Painful feelings,
That made a bad chain reaction I felt within,
WORSEN,
..
After that,
While looking for where to park while our family friends were waiting for the food to go from the Middle Eastern cafe,
While stopped at a traffic light,
In this increasingly gentrified area of “Park Slope”,
Brooklyn,
My mom pointed to an apartment then said:
“That’s where we lived when you were born”,
I looked,
Tried to take a picture but the light turned green,
So I didn’t have my IPhone camera ready before we turned..,
And even though it’s the city..,
I felt,
I wished,
That,
People would find ways of doing better at not being,
Pointlessly mean,
While in the area I was born,
In Brooklyn,
Struggling with emotion,
The guy I wish I was,
Had to blast his motorcycle engine,
Impressing his girlfriend,
Yet giving me a more painful inner reaction,
That made him feel better,
And made me feel worse,
And made me feel inferior,
Unwelcome,
Rejected..,
And while I write this,
I remember seeing a video,
Of a jungle gym in the neighborhood my parents then moved to which was Bensonhurst,
Of me at the top of a slide as a toddler,
And then a kid who looked about 7 years old,
Who..,
Impatiently,
PUSHED me down the slide,
Who my mom then confronted as my dad was filming me slide down,
Yet,
Because I’m still feeling pushed around,
To this day,
It remains a challenge,
Controlling myself,
When people act mean to me,
When people push and step on me,
Repeatedly,
Not sure if I described everything precisely..
yet I’d say the point is reasonably clear,
So I therefore hope,
That others hear,
That after hearing the motorcycle engine,
That really caused,
Or exacerbated,
In me,
A painful,
Emotional,
Chain reaction
Zach Dana Writing 