oh, ma.

i'm starting to write down conversations with my momma,

so i don't forget someday.

{"sweetie, i'm not worried about the fat guys dressed in black sulking in the alley ways,

i'm confident you could outrun them.

it's the crackheads with bicycles that make me most nervous.

please let me buy you a gym membership."

"have you ever been to a gym? there are far worse creatures

than crackheads with bicycles. drug addicts can actually be quite nice

if you just talk to them for a minute."

"you really scare me sometimes, you know that?

at least take the mace i bought you. at least."}

-on me running alone at night in the city

before she hung up i said, "mom- will i always be weird?"

"there's nothing wrong with being weird sweetie."

me- "so, yes."