Homo-Neurotic

The usually upbeat sky looked bleak and depressed. As tears fell from above, I was drinking too much Dunkin Donuts coffee. As a fan of shit weather (i.e. snow, rain, grey skies), that particular day just felt gloomy

I called my dad in California. He didn’t answer. I called again and he still didn’t answer. Even though we have a continent in between us, our phone calls always make him seem like he’s just around the corner.

In order to alleviate my nerves, I went for a walk in the East Village (O.K., I do that everyday). Rain poured on the Bowery, which was emptier than usual. My dad still didn’t pick up the phone. I grew more nervous, since I couldn’t fly to California to check up and feared something had happened.

Instead of playing in the sand box of neurotic thinking, I knew the one way to solve my problem was through art. So, I headed to one of my favorite art museums. Lucky for me, there was an exhibit on obscene art from New York in 1993. As I wondered into a world where breasts, graffiti, dildos, living rooms sets and arty videos equated art, I slowly felt better, but nerves persisted.

Then the unthinkable happen. Boom, shit, fuck, shit. I ran straight into a glass wall. The whole museum went silent. My first thought was “shit, I broke my nose.” As everyone looked at me with mouths open in shock.  I felt mortified. The following words came from my mouth “I am a genius.” I laughed then everyone laughed with me.

The museum curator walked up to me. “Excuse me sir, I have to take down your information,” he said. “Why?” I asked. “We have to take down the info of anyone who walks into that glass wall,” he replied, while taking out a notepad. “Could I get free tickets to your gorgeous, but edgy museum as compensation?” I asked with a smile. ” No, sir” he replied. “Oh,” l said, looking quite disappointed, I proceeded with giving him my information.

My dad finally called. “Where have you been? I was worried sick and I almost broke my nose,” utilizing guilt and a worried tone made him apologetic. So, I was worried for nothing. Therefore, I learned to say no to the neurotic voices in my head, since it only creates fear.  When they do make a comeback, I will delve into art instead.

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1 Comment

  1. ive walked through glass wall cut myself up pretty bad and then required 23 stitches on my leg. that was 28 years ago and scar remains. you are lucky.

    Reply

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