If only I was like Odious and had you to help me! I could type out the transmission from your satellite heart, my love played back to me, alien and strange like my voice on a cassette; I’d type as fast as I could to transcribe the dark feedback loop between us.
Lately I’ve been waking up feeling fortunate–joyful even–despite all the horror and darkness in the world. If not me, then who? I can’t make any sort of difference if I go down with the ship. And everything I’m doing now is about making a difference.
Heir Max 98: Hi Swim. Let me start by saying that I agree with you.
Swim Palmer: Hi
Swim Palmer: Agree with what?
Heir Max 98: That the mixtape is the highest form of art.
Nothing is inherently good or bad, 98 insists. There is only the perception and misperception of individual events—and only from the vantage point of an all-seeing God could anyone know which was which.
“Hear that?” Swim asked with a snort.
“98 believes in God, just like you!”
At the end of 2020 Odious and I were in a holding pattern. Unusual, and possibly extraordinary things had happened, but there was no way to know what, if anything, any of it meant...