• A LONG TRIP

    I am searching for my birth mother.

    See, I have three moms: the egg donor, the surrogate and the one in whose house I lived till I finished university.
    Now, I am not ungrateful, I mean my mother housed me, clothed me, fed me, was a mom in every sense of the word, but I have always felt a sense of disconnect from her. I don't even know how to explain it, it's like seeing a reflection of your family in the mirror and you are the only one that is a blur.
    Someone says it is typical privileged white boy shit. Wake up feeling dysphoric about something and decide to unload a shit can of worms in the process. But it is not.
    I swear it to you, this is not that.
    I have tried my damnedest to not do this, I have repeatedly woken up from crazy dreams that freak the heck out of me. My brother, Jordan, is calling it repressed teenage angst. Yeah, he's a psych major.
    The dreams have the same pattern: mist, some fog, trees speckled with moonlight, crazy bird cries and caws, and then some witchy drumming. It's like the first scene in a horror movie. And I'm the girl in a white nightdress following that raspy voice. It is freaky, I swear and everytime I wake up, there's like a million bright lights in the room. All of them neon greens, purples, reds and oranges.
    Makes me hungry sometimes. Well, everytime. It is why I keep a basket of carrots near my bedstand. I gnaw on them, like a rabbit.

    Hi, my name is Jordan. I woke up with vomit in my mouth this morning. This trip lasted for 24 hours, and the podcast already has 24k listens. Fuck rehab, this is much better.




    I think you get this.
    If you don't, I'll give you a few hints: trip, hallucinations and rehab.

    And thank you for reading this mini.
    Chris F on Pexels owns the picture and it is such a cute little elephant.

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