so that was weird

I took my­self to din­ner tonight be­cause fam­i­ly stuff is kin­da strained and awk­ward and stress­ful.

I was walk­ing home,

like lit­er­al­ly had just left the restau­rant,

when I saw three cop cars had pulled over a pedes­tri­an, a black man.

My in­stinct in those sit­u­a­tions is to watch and make sure it’s not es­ca­lat­ing to a weird place, so I can film if it does.

As I tuned my brain in, I saw that one of the of­fi­cers was the cop who pulled his gun on me a few years back and killed a men­tal­ly ill man months lat­er when his fam­i­ly called to have him ad­mit­ted, rant­i­ng about how he was­n’t be­ing racist and how dare this guy call him racist.

As THAT reg­is­tered, a woman I guess was with him be­gan yelling at me to mind my own fuck­ing busi­ness and that “if you re­al­ly want­ed to watch you’d give me two dol­lars.”

So that was weird.
 
 

—mel­ony ppenosyne

Flom­mist Mel­ony Ppenosyne is a writer and weird artist type. In the last year alone, she’s trav­eled to Vir­ginia as a com­pet­ing poet, co-writ­ten a play on men­tal ill­ness that is present­ly be­ing pro­duced, and craft­ed a pub­lished es­say check­ing the priv­i­lege and scope of art gal­leries. Copy­right © 2017 Mel­ony Ppenosyne.

MOR D’ARTÍCULOS  MOR FLOMM !

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