The/Third/Kind
I was told a quote would work for the beginning of this:"It was at that time I felt the anger pangs ripple through my breast and disrupt the natural flow of my bowels that signaled I was going into labor with you," my mother could have said, as she remembered when I first tried to burst into this world.
Born normal: 90s "upper" middle class, a rental starter home that was taken from us because of the 2008 Financial Crisis, and a father who robbed the cradle, so to speak. I had a good childhood despite the memory lapses. I do remember my tenth birthday. I had one of those for-profit reptile handlers, the ones you don't see on late night talk shows, come to the house. They placed a snake around my neck. I was so afraid I was going to be killed in that moment, but it was one of those snakes that didn't constrict. They just slithered around in a deluded state, most likely hopped up on pain killers, and probably wanted to be deloused of my human scent as it slithered past my neck and back into the handler's hands. My friends thought I was so cool. I didn't want to exist anymore.
I took the name TheThirdKind when I was 12. My favorite movie was Close Encounters of the Third Kind. My father showed me that movie. I thought I was so different from everyone else, an alien trying to go home. I now know it was just a simple pattern of white male loneliness coupled with dead dad syndrome and overbearing mother complexes. My therapist said that. Yet, here I am still upset, but my vision is so clear. More than it ever was.
This page is dedicated to whatever the fuck I was on from 2006 to 2018. Here, I'll show my poetry that tries to encapsulate the feelings I've tried to bury, they never stayed dead, and the ephemeral digital objects that pollute my brain, they never disappear. Now, all of it can be shared with you under the stars.
