You see me like Alice saw Wonderland, with curious bewilderment and excited fright. I see you like the Alice I once was, but am not anymore. You look at me like I am not from here. You think of me as the one who got you into trouble, the one who will surely get away. You long for me; while I long for someone else, of course, inevitably. Confused, lost, tired. Constantly dangling between drastic purpose and existential woe, repetition and dispassion. And you, you smell like hotel rooms. The nice ones, the ones that smell good. Of air conditioning and air freshener and God-knows-what. Of something floral maybe, maybe new sheets. My eternal love for hotel rooms, my immense longing to belong. Do I stay, put up the “Do Not Disturb” sign? Dare I leave? Get out of the room – let out the room from me?
15 December 2016