dearluigi

[dearluigi]

Dear Luigi,

I come to you for the first time a little bit tipsy. For health reasons, I try to be sparing about when I drink, but the reason for my last few posts coupled with the amount of money I spent on a ticket to see Lady Gaga today, I had to have a cocktail or two.

That being said, I’m going to finally delve into the second Lady Gaga album and what it meant for my life. I’m not going to lie to you, The Fame Monster was one of my least listened to Gaga albums while being quite the opposite for many people. I wonder if this is perhaps because I was still with my ex at the time, and as you might remember, he made fun of me for liking Lady Gaga (lord what would he say to me today after what I did). Additionally, she blew up with Bad Romance on this album, and quintessentially I am one of those people that always listened to an artist until they had their album that made them really big, and then I would stop, because I was an insufferable indie freak. Luckily this was not the case with Gaga, as time would tell.

However, I do distinctly remember my 60 some year old Lit professor in college playing the Bad Romance music video in class simply because she thought Gaga was so unique and original. I couldn’t even fully appreciate it either because my hipster ass was sitting there thinking “well duh.” 🙄 I also remember my mom complaining (she does that a lot) about that song being on the radio too much and even though I rarely agreed with my parents’ complaints, I still let them shape my opinions.

I don’t think I ever had a true bonding moment with that album, but I do know every song and there isn’t a bad track on it. A few years later I remember listening to Gaga’s discography (which I believe was just the three albums at the time) during an oral surgery and hearing “Teeth” play while I watched tons of blood get sucked from my mouth down a tube. What great memories.

I transferred colleges in winter of 2009, a handful of months before The Fame Monster came out, and while this helped my depression immensely, I still struggled with the transition and with my toxic relationship with my then boyfriend, so this album got overlooked. Gaga’s third album was the complete opposite for me, and my life was very different by the time it came out, so there will be many more great memories regarding that one.

Anyway, I spent over $600 today on a concert ticket. We are pretty close to the stage, but spending that amount on myself is very unlike me. I’m still reeling. Not to mention the secretly hidden depression I’m still feeling from the event that must not be named. I know with time I will get over this, but that almost scares me more because I don’t want to forget this person. I wish I could know what’s going on with them and why they did what they did. I feel like it was a result of their own struggles, perhaps depression too. I want to think we were both silly and drunk in our own homes tonight so as not to be alone in our pathetic state. I hope they’re okay. I wish I could help them but it would be weird and do more harm than good. I am getting delusional. Like Hailey Bieber style delusional…but was it a delusion if it planned out for her??

— C

[dearluigi]

Dear Luigi,

How dare you leave me in this place while you get to exist in a realm outside of it. I’m sure it’s not easy where you are, but you get to leave these people behind. I know we are similar in that way, that we don’t quite belong, that the bigger picture haunts us. But you took a stand and escaped. It will be no smoothly paved road for you, but I find myself jealous of that you get to be elsewhere. I don’t even see you in the places that I expect to anymore, and it leaves me less comforted than I’ve ever been.

By the way, this isn’t about you, at least not intentionally. But it actually makes me appear more mentally stable to be writing to a high profile prisoner awaiting trial than to the person it’s intended for. And it’s not necessarily NOT about you…because I miss you as well. I think media about you is being censored, or my algorithms decided I didn’t need to care anymore (which is still censorship, no?).

I need to know, will this aching sadness ever subside? I can’t fucking understand why I feel it in the first place. I shouldn’t, it doesn’t make sense, I’m missing a delusion that I created.

Have you ever listened to Charli XCX’s Gone? I relate to it a lot, and I think it perfectly encapsulates what I feel we could’ve related on. They’re making me loathe…but you’re already gone.

— C

[dearluigi]

Dear Luigi,

How is it possible to miss someone so much that you never really knew to begin with? For a minute, I felt that way about you, waiting for your next court appearance. And it’s not like I stopped caring, but that feeling eventually fell by the wayside, so I assume this new one will too. But it’s absolutely maddening. Every moment that I would’ve glanced and had the chance of seeing this person, it’s gone. It was rare I saw them anyway, rare that we even talked, but my mind can’t help but be hung up. Especially in this given situation, I can’t imagine what they’re going through, and not having known them well, I will likely never know now. I really can’t explain why I care about this without sounding like a stalker or an insane person, I think the closest categorization is limerence, but by textbook standards even that is not correct. I did not at all realistically wish for this person to feel any type of way about me, because if they did it would’ve changed my entire perspective on them. I don’t know, I can’t describe it. But now that this person is gone, it consumes my every thought. I had to make a concerted effort to not mention this person today, so that I could appear like a normal person and move on just the same as anyone else would be. Therefore, the thoughts are worse because I have to keep them inside. One thing about my brain is that it gets obsessive. If I find something to focus on or to distract me, I let it consume me. Everything becomes about that. I write stories in my head about that. I work it into conversations even when I probably shouldn’t. No matter what you believe about the zodiac, I am an insufferable Virgo to my core (and to prove it I could literally relate that fact to said person, but I won’t). It’s kind of amazing that I ever got a marriage license rather than a restraining order against me. But I also find when the stakes are based in reality, I can recognize that and act right. It’s when I let my imagination take hold that I run into issues. And the issues generally stay in my head, but it gets exhausting having these many storylines and thought lines all running concurrently in the background of my life on TOP of all the stress and anxiety of living every day in this oligarchal capitalistic hellscape we’ve come to know as our daily lives. And to further prove myself right, unfortunately, I’m going to say that I think that is part of the reason this person disappeared. Everything was all too much for them, yes a lot of it seemed to be personal, but I have to wonder if the added weight of this world maybe contributed as well. They are not dead, to be clear, they are just gone from the capacity in which I knew them and it would be too weird to reach out so I have no choice but to let them fade away. I don’t know, if you see more cryptic writing come your way, just know this is my only outlet to purge this person from my brain. I don’t necessarily want to do that, but I need to be released from them because this isn’t healthy. What’s scarier is this always leads me to wonder…because I know this person does not feel this way about me because they barely knew me…but that hasn’t stopped me from feeling it, so is it possible anyone has ever felt that way about me? There was one that I suspected could’ve gotten to that point but I know damn well it could’ve never been as nuanced as my feelings are now. Have you ever felt this way about anyone? I know plenty of people feel it for you…how odd that must be for you. But I don’t want to know how you truly feel, because knowing would mean I have to recognize how I could possibly make someone feel too. My eyes are crossing. I’ve purged myself to sleep.

— C

[dearluigi]

Dear Luigi,

Today I tried my hand at some free writing for the first time in a very long time to try and make sense of some things lately. I don’t feel as if I can go into detail, but ultimately it is not as important as the writing might make it seem. It’s just been interesting to me and I wanted to explore this situation as an outsider. I haven’t forgotten what I was writing about before, but this took a timely precedence. I used to love writing poetry and the like and I want to get back into it, I think you helped me with this space to do so. Hope you don’t cringe too much.

Is it a shame?

Is it a shame you’ll never know of the tiny sparks you started by rubbing your vocal cords together?

Might you have judged yourself differently had you known?

Known of the flutters of lashes and rhythms? Of tinged pink cheeks, mortified by how simply they came to be?

Would you have given a second thought to what you uttered? Those seemingly silly yet outright overt words to be quoted and judged and peeled from pages and picked, which pricked?

The words that have followed behind since that day, looming, waiting, disguised as inside jokes but stinging your core with shame.

But is it a shame?

Is it then really such a shame you’ll never hear what was said about you? Some of it rampant and rumored, but littered with so much good.

Those silly, stupid, self-serving words were the worst you ever showed, never hinting that they could have belonged to such a simple, sideways smile.

Lapse after lapse in judgment that came before yours, forgiven and boosted tenfold, while you sat at the bottom with your silly, stupid, shameful words.

But is it such a shame?

That you picked yourself up and turned around, vigilant enough to never turn back? Is it a shame that you freed yourself with no reason in sight, no shores in your light? Was the sea blacker and emptier before, or after? Were you ever able to separate the sky from the horizon? Will your eyes confuse the two forever?

Because in the end, if you’re still bobbing and sick, those silly stupid words still crashing around you, it would surely be a shame.

A shame you never stopped yourself those years ago to see how shame could feel. A shame you’ll never know which words you whispered felt more real.

But is it? Is it a shame?

- C

[dearluigi]

Dear Luigi,

I am so inconsistent with anything I do creatively, this being no exception. I am either filled with inspiration or all dried up, and currently I’m quite dry. A new horror gets reported each day to the point that I’ve decided to just cherish what I have every day rather than rehash every little announcement. I think more people are doing that too as they decide to meme our government to death (it’s so easy to do). We might as well laugh through the pain. Plus, the weather is warming up and there’s a new Lady Gaga album out, life feels a little bit okay.

I don’t know how you feel about Lady Gaga, maybe you feel like she’s a bit pedestrian, but I’ve been a fan since almost day 1, maybe day 1.5. I find her to be very talented and enigmatic. I might not be in love with every single thing she does but she takes risks and I admire that. She’s very true to herself through her craft and it shows. Recently with the drop of her new album, I’ve been reminiscing with myself about her body of work and the checkpoints throughout my life that each album designates. I’ve been very nostalgic lately and I’m not sure why, maybe it all plays into the trying to appreciate my life as it is while I have it. (I hate to think that you’re familiar with the feeling.) The only creative thing I’ve wanted to do lately is write out the memories I have associated with each album and I think I’m going to start that tonight. I don’t think this is something I would make the real you sit through, but this version of you is just an excuse for me to feel heard.

To begin discussing Gaga’s first album, The Fame, which was released in August 2008, I have to first give you an idea of what my life looked like at that time. I graduated high school a few months earlier and was set to start college at an art school in the city a month later. I had been dating my high school boyfriend for about 9 months by that point, and we dated into college for a couple years. He was my first serious boyfriend and basically all my firsts, as well as my first time experiencing what a dysfunctional and mentally abusive relationship looks like.

I don’t believe I listened to the album in 2008, I distinctly remember hearing it after that because the semester I spent at art school was the longest most depressing time in my life despite only being a handful of months long. Maybe that was why when my best (gay) friend told me to listen to it several times, I pushed it off continually. I was wallowing, and The Fame wasn’t for wallowing. I was commuting to the city, and also finding out that what I was majoring in was essentially pointless to pursue for a person like me. Plus I hated most of the art school student types, despite my best friend attending there as well. I cried a lot and despised every second I was there, so I ended up transferring schools and starting a new one in January 2009.

I still commuted, but it was closer to home, and also only five minutes from my boyfriend’s school, though that truly wasn’t why I chose it. This school just fit me so much better. I believe it was around this time that I listened to The Fame. I remember it fitting my new and happier demeanor, and I remember it being winter outside while it played during my commutes. It comes off as more of a party album so I can’t say I had any intense connection with it but I surely loved the melodies.

My best friend had been attending art school for photography (he only made it one semester longer than I did before transferring out too), and I distinctly recall an idea we came up with for a video for Boys Boys Boys. The premise was that we would go out early on a weekday and hit up all the spots where old people hang out: malls, diners, etc, and just pop up next to all the old men. They were the Boys Boys Boys. I especially wanted to sneak up behind one in a restaurant booth. I also remember I had a Starstruck shirt from Delia’s, I wish I still had it though I know it wouldn’t fit.

I was quite skinny then, at least when my weight fluctuated that direction. It fluctuated a lot when I was with my ex, because he projected his eating disorder onto me. He made a lot of remarks about my appearance and personality that caused me to be quite insecure for many years even after we split up. Perhaps my biggest memory of The Fame was him telling me how dumb it was that I was listening to Lady Gaga when he found out. I didn’t tell him right away because I knew that would be his reaction because he often told me my interests were dumb, except when they aligned with his of course. I remembered that moment when I was about ten rows back at her sold out stadium tour a few years ago. It’s why I don’t let myself or anyone else feel guilty about the things they like. I listened to Gaga in secret for the rest of our relationship, but we’ll get more into that for The Fame Monster next time. Sleep is calling me.

- C

[dearluigi]

Dear Luigi,

What an interesting day you had yesterday. I feel as if you would downplay it, but the judge’s insistence that you stay shackled on both hands and feet was mind boggling to me. I feel like the photos of your leg shackles on your very casually crossed ankles spoke volumes. There’s no way you can’t be bothered by all of this, but what feels like your unwavering nonchalant behavior is such a great tool to disrupt those trying to keep you from a fair trial. You come across so unbothered, which fuels your supporters more, and further deters the oppressive rhetoric surrounding your case. It’s brilliant, honestly.

Not to mention the clothes. First court date you wore the red sweater which harkened back to multiple suspects that were falsely or assumed falsely implicated. Yesterday you wore green which showed you are listening to people. The way you and your team communicate with the public to say that you hear us and see us, we know it’s a little thank you nod for the support.

Additionally, the protests that were happening outside regarding both your innocence as well as unfair healthcare practices almost brought me to tears. The more I consider your case, the more and more I presume your innocence (I always have at least to an extent due to the overwhelming inconsistencies in evidence) and in that case I think it’s humorous that you as a scapegoat have been able to unite people (ironic wording) against big healthcare. Especially if we consider this could have simply been a hit performed by someone else entirely for purely selfish reasons.

It’s such an interesting case. You mean a lot to so many people, and many of us hope that justice prevails in a corrupt system. I do fear for your life even in the case that you do get released someday, but I guess we’ll cross that bridge when (not if!) we get to it.

— C

[dearluigi]

Dear Luigi,

My posts are fewer and farther between and for that, I apologize. I’ve found a homeostasis for my anxiety and dread that doesn’t require as much purging. However, I’m considering maybe adding in a little more creative writing at times. No promises, watch this space I guess.

Remember LFC? She never came back last week, she’s coming back tomorrow. She somehow “found” more time off…I wonder if our boss “found” it for her. The extra time without her has actually downplayed her return for me so I’m somewhat grateful. I still dread seeing her face…both of them.

Did you hear RFK wants to take away SSRIs and send those people that need them to mental farms?? You know what’s interesting? My husband is on an SSRI for the management of his back pain, it’s a specific dosage that helps with him sleeping through the pain. His primary use is not even for “mental issues.” You know who in my family does take an SSRI for mental issues? MY DOG. Luigi, I’m telling you (and as someone who had back pain I think you can see where I’m coming from), if my husband has to go back to a dysfunctional life of not sleeping due to his pain, and if my dog goes back to max anxiety and aggression again, I can’t even express to you where that’s going to put ALL of us mentally. I absorb so much from both of them (yes even from my dog which probably sounds silly) that if that happens, I will probably end up needing a lobotomy. Obviously SSRIs are out the window so I will be getting sent to that farm for sure. I don’t think I need to delve into the back pain portion of this for you to understand why the worst times in my life have all had to do with my husband’s pain. None of it was something stemming from my own problems because all of my problems so far have seemed insignificant by comparison. It completely changed his (our) life. I don’t know, I just can’t go back there. My other fear is that even if the medications don’t get restricted, they will skyrocket in price.

Writing before I sleep is supposed to help me calm down but I think I just did the opposite.

Hey, you have a court date on Friday. I don’t know if this is sad or not, but your court date is one of the only things I have to look forward to right now, and it’s not like I’m even going. I bet it’s one of the only things you have to look forward to, too. All I’m hoping to see is a picture of you looking well. I fear that maybe you will have lost weight or will seem unhealthy and I don’t want that for you. Obviously I hope for other things for you but in regards to the court date, I can’t imagine much will actually get accomplished. The justice system is so painfully slow and bureaucratic. I should know, I’m an extremely small and inconsequential part of it.

Anyway, wishing you luck on Friday. This probably sounds weird, but I wish we could sit on a beach and chat. Doesn’t that sound lovely?

— C

[dearluigi]

Dear Luigi,

It’s been over two months since you were arrested. Honestly it’s felt longer than two months for me, so I can’t imagine how it’s felt for you. Maybe part of it was a whirlwind and felt much faster for you. Now that you’re getting into a routine, maybe it’s felt slower. I know the daily monotony makes time drag for me, and because of capitalism, I get to live pretty much my whole life that way. Joy.

I apologize for my sour mood, but it’s Sunday evening and the thought of Monday nearly always pisses me off. This week is going to be worse than most, as my least favorite coworker is coming back after a leave of absence. I have three coworkers who are the same title as I am. The newest and youngest one is by far my favorite, because despite her naivety, she is still the best of the three at the job. The second newest is okay as a person, she’s quite sweet almost to a fault, but she questions and argues every aspect of work which drives me up a wall. Additionally, she kisses the ass of the third coworker, whom I’m sure you’ve figured out is my least favorite.

I am the most senior of the four, with my least favorite coworker (LFC) having started a couple weeks after me. We were both internal hires, but at the time she had only been working for the department for a year whereas I had six, and I actually had experience related to the role where she did not. Despite this, she only makes marginally less than I do in this role, meaning she was given nearly a 45% raise compared to my 15% or so when we took this job. And despite THAT, she does the least amount of work and the quality of the work she does do is embarrassing.

I was amicable with LFC at first, despite me constantly picking up the slack (which I do for all three to be fair). However, once we got a third team member (who unconditionally kissed her ass), she got power hungry and became a royal cunt. She tried to get me in trouble despite the fact that she is ten times worse with the very thing she tried to catch me on. She’s taking phone calls constantly (which means she’s not working due to the nature of our work needing headphones), she’s almost always the last to start helping on a project, she comes in late and leaves early everyday, and nothing will ever happen to her because we’ve found evidence of her having some caliber of an inappropriate relationship with our boss. She’s extremely entitled in all areas of her life and even if she somehow changed her ways, I would never forgive her for trying to throw me under the bus when I’m the one all three come to when they can’t figure out a simple solution. I should be making supervisor money for how often I have to connect the dots for my coworkers, but of course that will never happen.

The one time I considered trying to fill my role at another department on the downlow, she came in telling us a story of how the chief at that department essentially called her to offer her the job. The job that she’s absolutely awful at! She’s that kind of person. She knows everyone, she married into a “locally famous” family so that everyone would know her, and she uses people constantly to get what she wants in life. She does very little to be able to have the lifestyle she has; she’s the kind of person that enrages a person like me who is just an introvert that works a little too hard and still struggles.

Anyway, I have no problem saying I hate her guts and that I wish she was dead. The past few months without her were glorious, and proved that we do not need a fourth person anyway. The vibes in the office were different among the remaining three of us and were much more comfortable. I know that that’s going to change her first day back and it’s going to go back to being tense in the atmosphere. I try not to let her bother me but it’s hard when I have to hear her take a phone call every 20 goddamn minutes.

Today I found myself missing the days of when I first started working full time. I found the tiktok account of this 23 year old who clearly scored a great job out of college and has a nice city apartment and I can just tell he thinks he has life made. I remember getting my much less prestigious first full time role at 23 and thinking I felt so accomplished. It’s that sweet spot in time when you start making more money but you don’t have a ton more responsibilities yet so you spend your time and money mainly on you. He shows how he comes home from work and takes a leisurely walk, then works out for 1-2 hours, then whips up a quick meal before relaxing prior to bed. I also remember that time in my life because I was able to afford a personal trainer. I can only describe that season of life as feeling like you’re a shiny new well oiled cog in the machine of capitalism and you don’t creak or grind yet. I sometimes miss not feeling so jaded, but that version of me had so much more to learn about life. I’m happy to be a realist but the jealousy I feel at those that are so blissfully unaware is intense.

You’re considerably younger than I am but seemingly immensely wise for your years, so I often wonder where your mind is on all this. You couldn’t have been that far out of school either. But maybe your cog started rusting faster than most. Mine is certainly corroded at this point from being ill fitted and overused. Some cogs are meant for different machines, but are forced to spin where they don’t belong for far too long.

— C

[dearluigi]

Dear Luigi,

I’m sorry it’s been a few days…I’ve found myself being both desperate to purge my thoughts to you as well as too exhausted by negative feelings to do so. The exhaustion won out, and I think the only reason I have the capacity to write today is because I took a Saturday to do absolutely nothing for once. This week was incredibly draining for me mentally. I guess every week since inauguration has been, but living through that while finding myself in a realm eight hours a day in which the huge majority around me agrees with what’s exhausting me just adds to the problem.

Sometimes I get very paranoid at work, and to be fair the times it happens most also happens to be when I usually experience some PMDD symptoms, so it’s hard to say which biopsychosocial aspect is controlling me most. It’s not fun to feel like the odd one out, which I have found myself feeling so many times in my life, but when it’s due to political differences that are becoming debilitating, it’s scarier. I work with the kind of people that are so fanatical about Trump that they wear Trump shirts, Trump hats, Trump bikinis, and have Trump cups or holiday wreaths. There’s maybe two politicians that I would say I like rather than just simply tolerate, and I still cannot envision myself plastering their names or faces all over my house or body. I’ve noticed the number of Teslas in the parking lot at work have increased in the past year, but even more noticeably in the past month or so. I work with the kind of people that can spend car-buying money just to show they support someone (a fascist, to be exact). Working at a police department already feels cultish at times, but adding in the current political climate has made it unbearable.

I keep my political leanings fairly quiet but that in itself is probably a tell for some people that interact with me. I have precisely one friend there that shares my beliefs and we have many conversations which I’m sure some people have overheard. This week felt like we were being ignored a little more than usual, and I can’t help but wonder if maybe that’s why. Most people would think that’s great and that now I don’t have to deal with them, but they forget the dichotomy that’s at play. These people are cops and supervisors. As much as I don’t like it, they have authority and some control over me. They are not people you want to make enemies with when you have to share an empty hallway with them, or when you have to call 911 and require their help. One of the cops that works my residential area has gone from being very kind and cordial with me, to being oddly slightly fixated on me, to now almost entirely ignoring my existence, and 2 of those 3 reactions to my presence are not ideal when he quite literally knows where I work AND live.

On top of that, I overhear conversations all day long that are not political in nature at their core get twisted to be made about something being the fault of democrats or liberals. Yet the unending atrocities that the country is currently facing stay far away from their mouths. I guess this situation is made worse from my own doing for a few reasons. I’m often overhearing these conversations while doom scrolling, which I probably shouldn’t be doing as much as I do. Not only that, I could just quit my job, right? Except it’s not that easy. The job market blows right now, and I’ve applied to many a federal job in the past with nary a word in reply (a fact which I am very thankful for today as so many federal employees are losing their jobs or being forced to relocate in order to work in the office). More than that, instead of feeling downtrodden by being the black sheep, I try to embolden myself by knowing that I am one less hive mind member in the organization. I try to relish in being a “mole” of sorts, but pretending to give a shit about people who want to take so many rights and liberties away by association is just so very draining. I am not one of them. And with things going the way they are, I may very well get fired for it someday.

The effects are felt long after I clock out as well. My drinking is up probably 80%-90% more than normal (I had maybe 1-2 drinks a month previously), and so is my anger. But oppositely, I’ve been trying to have a little more fun and take time to dance everyday, as lame as that sounds. I’m trying to lean into the “don’t let them think you’re overwhelmed” mentality, which has been a little easier than expected, probably because drinking makes it easier. And thus I find myself in a cycle of coping.

Anyway, I wonder about you. Streets are saying your next court date is in a few weeks. How long does time feel in between events like this? Does it drag? Or does it feel like you don’t have enough time to prepare? I also saw what was allegedly your current list of wanted books, with Come As You Are on there. As much as you might actually want to read that, I know you put that on there for kicks. The girls are reacting, if that’s what you wanted. And why wouldn’t you? Knowing there is such support for you has to feel good. If people were making cute thirst edits about me, I might feel like less of a rotting potato right now. Hopefully the attention is not too overwhelming for you, and judging by your book choices I don’t think it is. I think you see us and you’re trying to subtly communicate in whatever silly way you can, or maybe I’m just fully delusional. Regardless, you can bet someone will be sending you that book, and I’m hoping you get the chance to put it to use someday. I hope you go free, is what I’m trying to say. In the meantime, stay as you are, I guess.

— C

[dearluigi]

Dear Luigi,

Where to begin? There’s no way to explain to you what’s happened in the last week in this country. I try every day or two but the amount of news that we are barraged with every day is inconceivable. But I think that’s quite the point. This administration wants us so overwhelmed and defeated and complacent so that they can step forward with little resistance, and presumably at some point, make themselves look like saviors to the very people that they wronged. I will not ever fall for it. And as much as I don’t want to be, I am so very angry at the people that already did. My parents being two of them, and 98% of my coworkers being basically the rest.

I’m about to admit to you where I work, and I fear that judgment will be passed on me in doing so. I judge myself every day for making the naive choice to apply there nearly nine years ago, but things were so different then. I don’t think my frontal lobe had fully developed. Interestingly, I was the same age you are now. I think you are probably much more mature than I was, but maybe it also explains some other things about you. Would we all be talking about you if you were my age? Would any of this happened to you? Anyway, I’m getting off track.

I work for a police department. First things first, I am not a cop, I do not like most cops and I am not a cop apologist, and my job is very much behind the scenes and not very customer facing. I don’t really want to say what I do because it’s a very particular role but in a way, I do somewhat help people. In fact, I help a lot of people in the legal system whether that be inmates or maybe lawyers. I don’t really do anything special but people do somewhat rely on me. This is starting to sound like a riddle but I promise it’s not.

I will have many more stories about where I work now that I’ve divulged that, but I bring all this up to talk about yet another decision made by our federal administration this week. Thankfully, a judge has blocked it for now, but Trump proposed halting all federal grants, which obviously affects a lot of things. One of these things are local police departments, which as I’m sure you can imagine is quite ironic given that most of the cops I know (and I would assume most cops in general) are the biggest fucking boot lickers when it comes to Trump. Not only this, but Trump also pardoned insurrectionists who were responsible for physically beating and disabling police officers. And if there’s one thing I know about the police, they will defend their own to no end.

Perhaps that’s why it’s been awful quiet around the department this past week. They’ve always been so outspoken and loud about their ignorant support, but now the silence is deafening. I want to fill that void by screaming at them that this is what they voted for when they decided to be single issue voters (allegedly) and place affordable gas and groceries above all else, which it would seem are about to get exponentially more expensive.

I wanted to be wrong. When my dem friends said there’s no way he could run again after being convicted, I didn’t believe it. When they said there was no way the people would vote him in again, I wanted to have hope that they were right but I didn’t believe that either. And when they said “yes, Project 2025 is crazy but it’ll never actually happen,” I wanted to think they were right, but deep down, I didn’t. I wanted to be wrong. I wanted all the red pilled lint lickers in my life to be right! I wanted us to just have a derisive ass clown of a president who did a few stupid things but really did make life more affordable. I wanted my least favorite person at work to be able to laugh in my face if it meant I was wrong about all the terrible awful atrocities I saw possible. But they aren’t laughing like I thought they’d be. They’re unusually and painfully quiet. And I’m not wrong.

I know this was depressing as all my posts are, but you don’t have to worry about me. Yes I am constantly wavering and can easily be overcome by anxiety at any given moment, but I am beginning to find peace. I will admit I may not be doing it in the healthiest of ways, but if a vodka shot is what gets me through my night and starts emboldening me to feel resistant to the overwhelm of it all, then so be it. They want to see me worried and upset, and if I’m good at anything, it’s refraining from giving men the fucking satisfaction.

— C

[dearluigi]

Dear Luigi,

How are you doing? Mentally, physically? How was your weekend? Does your weekend differ at all from the rest of the week? Do certain days mean certain things are happening or is every day the same? (Aside from mail, I heard there is no mail on the weekend?) I wish you could answer! I’m sure you’re reading or writing something interesting that would be fun to discuss.

I’m reading nothing…well technically I’m reading four books, but my brain can’t focus enough to stick with any of them very long. Writing to you via this has been the most I’ve been using my brain honestly. I like it because it tends to relax me the way that reading does but I can actually focus on it even when I’m anxious. Which is a lot lately. I have reading goals that I’ve made no headway on but I’m trying to be gracious with myself given the circumstances. I spiraled a little bit today which gives me fear for my sleep tonight but hopefully I can keep the anxious thoughts at bay.

Instead of dwelling on all of that at the moment, I’ll tell you about part of my weekend. Have you ever listened to Disco Lines? He’s a DJ that my friend and I went to see on Friday. I’ve been to a lot of concerts but I had never been to an EDM show and the vibes were so great. It seemed very rave adjacent and a lot of the people really took the PLUR thing seriously which was such a nice change of pace. Most people were extra kind and considerate, or maybe they were just too high to be mean but either way I’ll take it. Disco put on a great show but I was feeling my age just a bit. I had woken up at 3:40 am that day from anxiety, and he didn’t go on until 10 pm. It was a very long day and I felt very 35.

I’m getting to an age where I wonder if I “should” be going to these types of shows…but then I think, why would I let that stop me? I have the money and I have the means and I like the music, why can’t I go and have fun? Being five years away from 40 is something I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around and I wonder if there will be a point where I stop going to concerts…at least the ones I “shouldn’t” go to. I go to a few a year usually, most often with my best friend, and we sometimes feel like imposters but it hasn’t stopped us yet. We’re seeing Charli XCX in April, and we saw her at the Sweat tour last September.

Somebody allegedly found your Spotify and it appeared you listened to Brat, but I wish I knew if it was true. I feel like it’s a fake account someone made pretending it belonged to you. There’s kind of a lot of those out there, but I would guess at least some of them are real. I guess it doesn’t really affect any of us either way, but it would be cool to know what you like. I think a lot of us assume we already know these things from the internet but there’s no way to know if they’re true. And if this was a real letter, there’s no way I would even be bringing that up to you to verify it.

My eyes are getting very sleepy very fast, I imagine you are trying to sleep as well. I hope your days are filled with at least something small that feels purposeful. No matter what the truth is, you most definitely have served a purpose for many American people so I hope you know that somehow. Wishing you a comforting sleep and pleasant dreams tonight.

— C

[dearluigi]

Dear Luigi,

I feel defeated today. There’s a lot of reasons for that…some are obvious but the others aren’t worth explaining. How often have you felt that lately? I think if I was in your position I would feel it daily, but I don’t think I’m as mentally strong as you are…just an assumption. Thinking of your situation gives me perspective.

I had a dream the other night that Elon Musk was at my job doing mandatory interviews for recruitment purposes, and if he decided he wanted to recruit one of us we had no choice in the matter. In the dream was an actual coworker, who in real life on the day after the inauguration pronounced “daddy’s home!” to the office, and she bombed her interview (because Elon thought she was stupid, because she is) and she was so upset about it. Meanwhile I was standing in line waiting to be called, debating on if I should quit my job on the spot just so I didn’t have to go in a room with that man. In an instant I had to decide if my salary and benefits (lol) were worth…well…my worth. It was awful. My brain is so poisoned right now but I can’t tolerate being uninformed either.

I also unlocked a new fear today in the wake of Trump dissolving whole federal departments and jobs, and changing laws as he sees fit. I don’t have a federal job, but I do have a municipal job (I’m not ready to share more details on it but maybe someday I will) and within the title of my role is quite literally one of our laws. It is my job to perform the rights of that law for the citizens who request it. It is a good law that allows for more transparency though it’s not without its flaws. But it’s just the kind of thing I could see Trump thinking is no longer necessary as it is the type of law that helps promote truth. Just like so many federal employees, I could easily be told one day that I am being reassigned, or put on leave simply because he decided that law was not a law anymore. And that will be the day I no longer hold in my political opinions at work as I have been for years.

I am extremely politically and socially stifled at work. The majority of people who work there would not agree with most of my beliefs or ideals. Sometimes I feel like a chameleon everyday walking through the door, blending in for survival. It’s probably not hard to guess where I work given the way I’ve described it. But still I’m not ready to admit it because it comes with guilt ridden disclaimers and caveats. I’m not in the mood to defend part of my existence, as it feels like I will be doing that for the next four years regardless.

I’m too exhausted today to continue writing or spark any internal discussion. I’m just so very tired. I hope we can both find peace tonight, me from my anxiety and worry, you from whatever may be weighing on you, or perhaps just from noisy roommates.

— C

[dearluigi]

Dear Luigi,

Lately I’ve really been trying to think back on a day from a few months ago…you ever have one of those days that feels near perfect? I feel like I had a lot more of them when I was younger, and now I’m lucky if I have one every few years.

It was a warm day in October; my mind was still just as consumed with The Bad, and every warm day in the fall was just a looming reminder of our planet’s demise, so much so that I had to bring it up in therapy and learn how to appreciate unseasonably nice weather. Yikes. This day had to have been after that therapy session, because I was enamored with the 70 degree breezy day which emitted the perfect amount of sunshine. My husband and I went with his brother to this river walk area downtown a handful of miles away. This river walk happens to be in the town I went to college in, and I walked it a few times while I had attended there. My brother in law wanted to photograph the ducks, so this left many moments for my husband and I to quietly bask in the sun, hands occasionally clasped. The river walk was quite busy that day, but the number of people didn’t really bother me. It felt like everyone was on the same wavelength, immaculate vibes if you will.

Later on, we went to a little hole in the wall burger pub that my husband and I used to go to when we first started dating. Everything was the exact fucking same…aside from the prices. The burger tasted exactly like it had over a decade ago, and the fries hadn’t changed. To top it off, some jaded millennials were working the bar and had put a pop punk playlist on that had just the right amount of deep cuts. Maybe it was cringe to an outsider, but every element of nostalgia combined so perfectly that day that my dopamine receptors were getting more use than they had in years.

I’m trying desperately right now to remember the feeling of that day. It wasn’t that long ago, and things were still shitty, it’s not like it’s from a foreign timeline. It was pre-election so maybe I still had the faintest glimmer of hope left in me. I wish you could tell me about a day like that that you’ve had. Sometimes I wonder if people understand the feeling I’m trying to convey when I describe this “perfect” day, or if we all experience these feelings in a unique way that makes it hard to fully relate. I want to hear someone else describe a day like that to me, I want someone else to pick up on the beautiful minutia and make me feel like they felt poetry that day.

Today is -2 degrees and The Bad is all consuming. I want to go back to a day where I felt connected to the strangers I passed by the sun we shared. You could’ve so easily been a stranger like that. I’m sure for many who did not know it, you were, at one time or another. What a weird feeling to think of those we’ve shared space with and where their lives might’ve gone.

— C

[dearluigi]

Dear Luigi,

Hi. I can’t really explain why I’m doing this, writing this. I tried this once already and I was trying too hard to sound eloquent, and for what? Like you’ll read it? I don’t know you, and that’s kind of the point. But the media and the internet has made it feel like I sort of know you, like I want to relate to you. Which of course, I’m far from being the only one. Consequently, I thought it might be safer to get these thoughts out here instead of actually attempting to write to you because that just feels…performative, maybe? Not to mention, the more selfish reason I’m doing this is because I’ve craved an outlet since I stopped writing in my Xanga 17 years ago and have never found anything that felt comparable.

Things are…awful, to say the least. I would be interested to know how much you’re able to keep up with current events at the moment. I assume not very much considering you literally are one of the current events. Today was Trump’s inauguration, Elon did the nazi salute, and America is withdrawing from the WHO?? Two days ago Congress upheld a ban on tiktok, it went dark for 14 hours, and then came back with a message thanking Trump which is the most dystopian brainwashed propaganda shit I’ve seen in my lifetime. Certain hashtags and searches are now banned on there and it’s feeling really…red. Red flags, red pilled, red book??? I’m still there because I want to see things play out in real time but my days on that app are numbered. I think unbiased news will be hard to come by, and that’s going to affect what we know and learn about you as well.

I would love to know what you would think of all this, if you knew. I’m sure you have some clue of where America is headed given your…situation, but seeing it play out is mind blowing. I guess I also needed this outlet to think through these things because I’ve taken a little more interest in current events lately; it feels impossible not to? I think my family and friends only have so high of a threshold before they start to see my tin foil hat peeking out and I’m forced to go normie mode again. I’m not “an intellectual” by any means, but I think I would actually go more insane attempting ignorance at this point (I’ll check back in a few months with my mental breakdown tally and we’ll see if that statement holds up).

I don’t expect to only talk about the maddening shit but it truly feels like I have no other choice today. I do wonder how you’re doing, how inmates in general perceive a day like today. That world is different with so many different more urgent, important concerns within the microcosm of the prison system. You have a trial to worry about, your own survival now outweighs that of the greater public. Maybe someday I’ll share my opinions on your case, but censorship is beginning to run so avidly rampant that I’m actually a bit fearful to do so.

Anyway, I had to get those immediate thoughts out, but I have a lot more to explore, and so much more I wonder about. This still feels fucking performative. I just want something I write to feel real.

— C