Jupiter’s favorite color is purple

This woman with a purple skirt flowing like karma and hair knotted like fists told me , “You have an indigo aura.You’re an indigo child!” She spread her words like love all over the air above me, showing me what an awesome thing this was to her. I was just like, Whatever the fuck that means.Whatever you say.

What it means is,I guess ,is I came from some other planet, sent here to save the world. I came into it knowing,higher evolved, laughing on the inside at those who didn’t know. A higher sense of purpose than the masses,refusing to conform to formalities established . Indigos buck the system and when it bears down on them harder,they fight harder. They may even get “Fuck authority” tattooed on their ass for all I know. The lady didn’t say.She just reiterated “saving the world “,over and over, like if she said it enough ,the Aura Fairy would come and paint hers indigo,too.

Zach de la Rocha and comic book writers,they must all be indigo too.

Yeah,that’s me too but I hate that term,”Non-conformist”.I laugh at people when they say,”I’m a non-conformist!”, like they’re someone special. Once you label yourself something, you’ve slapped a red framed sticky label on your soul that tells the world what you are,not who. You’ve conformed.

This mommy at the park one day ,wearing sweatshop capris and a hoodie with AE on her right breast and RO on the left like corporate tassels was talking to another Mommy. She said,”I’ve always been such a non-conformist so I don’t know why everyone was so shocked when we decided to honeymoon in the Mediterranean”. In my head,I was thinking,”Holy shit,sweetheart…are you fucking kidding me? You wouldn’t know non-conformity if it shoved it’s dick down your throat.’. But I didn’t say a damn word outloud, just kept it in my head.

What I want to know is this: If I’m supposed to be saving the whole damn world, why can’t I talk. With my voice,verbal and verbose. I try to say things out loud and the words sit there on my tongue like my toddler who has gone boneless and refusing to go one step farther. Carlos tried to make me talk the other day, I was trying to explain something and it just wouldn’t come out.”I can’t! I can’t say it right.” and frustrated, he yelled back,”Just spit it out!”. I waited a few minutes for the thoughts to assemble themselves in a collective grouping,like a mathematical array and tried again. Better this time, the words were like those sparks that fly off a bonfire that don’t go nearly as far as you think they should.

Afterwards, he said,”There.Was that so hard?” It was.”It was! My brain hurts now. I think I need a nap.” Because even though I said it, it was only part of it and the other half of was still in my brain ,filing itself into storage boxes labeled “Things I Never Said Out Loud.”