Mean reds, abyss

–Listen…you know those days when you get the mean reds?
–The mean reds? You mean like the blues?
–No… the blues are because you’re getting fat or because it’s been raining too long. You’re just sad, that’s all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you’re afraid and you don’t know what you’re afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling?
–When I get it the only thing that does any good is to jump into a cab and go to Tiffany’s. Calms me down right away.

Can’t think too hard. No, no, can’t think too hard. Think too hard and all of a sudden a giant wooshing sound rises up from the edges of the film and the celluloid starts to melt and the light bleeds through and the picture dissolves into white blotches and then: blackness. ABYSS!! ABYSS!! Nope, nope, don’t think too hard. Because you have no idea what you will be when you grow up, or when this growing up will be, or who will be there with you.

To ward off the mean reds, I am wearing a brightly patterned skirt and consuming a cinnamon chip scone and a cup of hot coffee in a bright, warm coffee shop. Not quite breakfast, not quite Tiffany’s, but close enough.

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